Quote of the Day: “Why, a child of five could understand this. Fetch me a child of five!” –Groucho Marx
The Little Scamp is what you might call a Renaissance Kid. Basically, you can’t pigeonhole her.
She plays with Barbies, trains, scooters and bulldozers, sometimes all together. She is a seasoned traveler, looking forward to not only Disneyland this summer but waterfall hikes too. The kid likes cucumbers and lettuce but not pudding and she wants to like watermelon but she’s not quite there. She’s thinking about adopting the harp as her musical specialty–we’re talking the Bob Dylan harp, not angels. Fearless of roller coasters, she is nervous about riding her training-wheeled bike.
So it should be no surprise that she has a taste for the food and ambiance of restaurants that are really much too “adult” for her. But it does bring us a measure of surprise and relief every time we take her to a fine dining environment, which isn’t often, that she not only enjoys the experience, but that she behaves well enough for us to enjoy it.
All of this is but a non-sequiteresque segue to the real point of tonight’s post–our dinner conversation from Saturday night. The Scamp, you see, is also developing a sharp, quick, if unintentional wit here in her fifth and a half year:
TB: Scamp, are you getting full? If you eat all that you may not feel like having dessert. We’re gonna go get ice cream when we leave here.
Scamp: I’m not full. (scarfing her gourmet mac and cheese like a lumberjack ending a hunger strike)
(several moments elapse, scarfing continues)
TB: Honestly Scamp, you need to stop if you want to have space in your stomach for chocolate ice cream. You need to save some room for your dessert.
Scamp: (staring blankly at me) I have one room in my stomach for mac and cheese that I’m going to fill up and another room for chocolate ice cream that is completely empty. (resume scarfing)