Tuesday, October 20, 2009
"Waitress": How can I take your order?
Me: I'd like a salad and some ham please.
"Waitress": You can have chicken, apples and apple juice
Me: I can't have milk?
"Waitress": No, you can have apple juice
OK, so I'm having apple juice...
"Waitress": What kind of dessert do you like?
Me: I like cheesecake
"Waitress": How about chocolate cake?
Chocolate cake is good too...
"Waitress": Here's your dinner. Is it good? OK, have a good dinner...bye!
I'll give you two guesses who the waitress is. Yep, SweetPea's latest and greatest pretending game is playing "chef". You heard me right...technically in her world, she is not a waitress...she's the chef...who also happens to wait tables. At first, her game was limited to the "home edition", but now when we go out to eat at a restaurant, once the waitress is done taking our order, SweetPea grabs her complimentary crayon and kid's menu, gets out of her chair, and stands next to the table to take our order herself. You might have noticed, at Chez SweetPea, your menu selections are limited to whatever she tells you that you really "want". Hey, who better than "the chef" to understand her customers so well that she just knows what you want to eat? We play this game over...and over...and over...at home...in the car...in the backyard at her picnic table...at the doctor's office. Sometimes we use her plastic play food and her tea set...sometimes we pretend the whole set up. She lets me know when it's my turn to pretend to be the "chef". Sometimes she serves a group of her stuffed animals...but usually it's me...or daddy...but most of the time it's me.
The Man says to me at one point "my daughter wants to be a waitress when she grows up...great." Not that there's anything wrong with being a waitress....without them, we'd be stuck eating cafeteria style, like at Luby's or eating at fast food joints. Of course, I remind him that she's three and that in her short life, she's wanted to be a princess, Imagination Mover Dave, Dora the Explorer and, on occasion, a snail. For the record, if you ask her what she wants to be when she grows up, she'll tell you "I'm going to be a doctor." If that's true, I might be the one waiting tables...at a couple of restaurants...part time... while I'm working a full time job if we're going to afford medical school!
So, if anyone's hungry, come on over to our house. I hope you don't mind plastic food...and you better like chocolate cake!