My Little Waitress
SHEILA QUINN WILSON, MOTHER INSPIRED
September 1, 2008 – I have so many joyful moments with each of my girls that I don't get the opportunity to jot them all down. My last entry was dated back in May... however I do try, knowing well that one day I may forget these memories. The following account involves my little comic, rather specifically, my 'little waitress'.
My youngest is happiest around food, and regularly plays make-believe around her passion for it. During an afternoon last Labour Day weekend, she joined me outside equipped with a notepad and pencil.
She began in her most professional voice, "Mommy, what would you like to eat?"
Playfully, I answered, aware of the girls' dinner menu request for later that evening, "Hmmm, Macaroni and Cheese."
In her notepad, she scribbled what resembles these marks only in a continuous fashion: /\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\. "And what would you like for a drink?"
"A Corona, please."
She looked up at me, "What's that?"
"It's Mommy's favourite beer," I smiled.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\ ambitiously crossed the pad. "For dessert?" she continued, her eyes focussed on taking my order.
"Mud Pie."
"Nooooooo, you can't have muh-ud! A pie filled with mud doesn't exist!!" she insisted.
I explained that mud pie could be like a chocolate cake with hot chocolate sauce on top. She didn't seem to mind my defense and scribbled it down.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\.
"I will be right back with your order," she stressed on the right back part. I pretended to eat and complimented that everything was delicious, my tummy very full, but how much would it cost?
"One hundred dollars!" my little waitress proudly announced without reservation.
"One hundred dollars?? But Macaroni and Cheese only costs me two dollars at the grocery store!" I teased, incredulously out of shock while providing her with a more accurate perspective on pricing!
"Okay, two dollars then," she relented, not giving any thought to mark-up or profit.
"How about my drink? Surely you will want to charge me for that..."
"That's four dollars so you have to give me six," she added. At four years of age, her sense for math is simply remarkable!
"And my dessert? Don't forget about my dessert..." I reminded.
"Fifty dollars!"
"Fifty dollars?? But a slice of pie in a store is only a dollar fifty..."
"Okay, fifty then."
"Fifty cents?"
"Yup!"
"All right... So I owe you six dollars and fifty cents altogether but I will give you eight dollars for being such a great waitress. Here you go, miss," and with that, I ended our game. Or so I thought...
"Okay, Mommy. Now you have to be somebody else," she whispered with big eyes, pointing her finger at me. Moving on again in her grown-up and serious voice, "Mommy, what would you like to order?"
"I am not sure... What did she have?" I asked pointing to her older sister.
"She... she had a really BIG list, I can't remember it," my waitress shrugged off casually.
"You don't remember? But you have written everything down in your notepad... What does it say? Can you read back her order to me?" I really-really was enjoying this role-playing!
"MO-ommy!! I can't read it! It's only squiggly lines, see?" she rolled her green eyes at me, flipping to the page's contents of the previous order:
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\.
I did have to laugh out loud over this travesty, although, to my shame, my giggly outburst resulted with her ducking behind the chair, all shy and embarrassed. Once she regained her composure, she peeked out and started, "Now... can I take your order?"
She randomly flipped to a new page, waiting. Sensitive to her feelings, I softly resumed, "All right... okay... I will have Grilled Salmon with Steamed Asparagus."
"What's that?"
"Salmon? You eat Salmon all the time when we go for Sushi -- it's the orange stuff you like. Grilled Salmon is cooked though, so it's warm."
Scribbles. /\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\.
"For a drink, I would like a Coffee. Double-double, please," I continued.
S'more silent scribbles. /\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\.
"And for dessert, I would like Strawberries, Raspberries, and Cool Whip on top with Sprinkles. Thank you."
Scribbles again. /\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\.
She excused herself to prepare my meal. I only complained once that my main dish was too hot and, promptly, she replaced it without any questions asked. What a great waitress! She didn't charge me for that meal but asked that I 'pretend' to be someone else to start the game all over again...
In her grown-up voice, once more, "Okay, what would you like to eat?"
"I think I will have Pancakes and Syrup!"
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\. "What would you like to drink?"
"A Coffee, double-double."
"Again?? Don't you want something different?" my waitress expressed with a slight annoyance.
"But I am a different person and different people can order the same thing in a restaurant..."
"All right, all right..." /\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\.
"What do you have that's healthy for dessert?" I inquired after I made sure she had included my double-double with my order.
"I have cake, and pie, and ice cream, and cookies, and..."
"Those are all wonderful desserts, my sweet," I critically interrupted her sing-song, "but I asked for something yummy and healthy, not just yummy..."
"Oh... there's cake, and pie, and ice cream... A cookie? Do you want a cookie??"
I was amused how central to her preferences for dessert she reiterated my choices. "Don't you have something healthier like a Fruit Salad?" I suggested, emphasizing for healthier options.
"Well, YES, as a matter of fact I do! I also have Egg Saaa-lad and Caesar's Saaa-laaad..." she chanted in her sweet voice while trying to think of all the types of salad she knows. But Egg Salad for dessert? Ick!!
Oh well, I went along anyway, "Yes, Egg Salad for dessert will do, thank you."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\.
She quickly served my food and then plopped herself in the deck chair in front of me. "Can I watch a movie in your room now? Pleeeeeeeease? I'm tired! Phew!"
She was too exhausted to remember to bring my bill, so another free meal for me (giggles). And just like that, my little waitress' working shift was over. I was full anyway...
Article by Sheila Quinn Wilson – Mother Inspired
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