Friday, September 2, 2011

Pardon me, waitress?

When I originally posted this in Sept. 2008, I was too subtle. Several readers expressed concern and almost went as far as saying I really ought to report the below café to some sort of government health body...

I'm glad for the opportunity to dust it off again, by way of Multiple Mum's weekend rewind (whaaat? She went and took the Rewind off her sis? WHERE HAVE I BEEN and when did this happen???), which this weekend is asking that we link up to a post sharing parenting advice.

I'm going to offer that you can never lose your sense of humour. Ever. If you can help it. It will help carry you through. On the day of the post in question, I had been so far having a shit of a week (I can still remember it three years on, give you any indication?). And the ability to sit in the moment and just be waited on by our young daughter brought not only squeals of delight from her but peals of mucho-required laughter from me.

Don't lose your sense of humour.

If you feel it all caving in on you, give over to the stress and pressure and..... stop. Hand on heart, remembering these two (seemingly simple) things are what saw me through the first three years.

Got a bit of 'advice'? Link up! Here's my contribution:

We tried a new café yesterday. When we turned up it looked inviting enough. We were welcomed warmly and took a seat each.
Then, things started to get a bit weird.
The waitress seemed confused when I asked for a capuccino. She took my order gleefully enough, but instead of waiting for my money, she simply smiled widely, turned and walked over to the cash register where she proceeded to take out a $5, bringing it back to pay me and calling it "A hunret. And fifty. Dollez". I was confused, to say the least.
Then Steve gave her his order too and the waitress busied herself by turning circles, seemingly to steady her excited self, before heading back to the cash register and retrieving more money for him.
But then, things got a whole lot weirder.
We looked over, while we waited on the comfy chairs, and to our surprise we saw the waitress obviously straining. She made no effort to disguise that she was very noticeably filling her ... pinafore ... with the exception of turning her face away. But we could see, with the lifting of the strands of hair over her face, that she was exerting quite some effort and breathing through it as she *hushed tones* pushed one out.
Steve leaned over to me and quietly instructed me from the corner of his mouth, "Just don't order a hot chocolate, for God's sake." I think it was this point that I finally fell off my chair, unable to regain any composure.
Despite all this, the place was a treat. Absolutely quaint. I highly recommend the brownies.

Oh, waitress?
Butter wouldn't melt in her mouth...

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