Playing Restaurant

One of the too-many-to-count advantages of living so close (i.e., in a different part of the house) to my grandsons Henry and Peter is that I get to see a lot of them. Which is wonderful. Which is convenient. Which makes my heart happy. Which makes me aware of how very, very fortunate I am.

We like to "play" restaurant. I take orders, Pete (age 3) sets the table - sort of. I don't change his set up. It's his work and he is proud, beamingly so. The other night, the boys came up to my granny flat and we had a "restaurant" spaghetti dinner. They were so cute, and so excited. They ate very well, but when it came to cleaning up I am afraid I was the Little Red Hen and did most of that by myself!

This morning, I was greeted by these two grand boys at 7:30 am. They came running up the stairs in their jammies and I was just getting up. I said "Who wants restaurant breakfast?" and they both said "Yea!" so that's what we did.

Henry (now 6, with his first tooth gone and the next one on its way out) wanted to write down the "orders" including his own.  Here's his…

Not that you need a translation, but this reads:
orange juice, French toast, cake, and cherry juice!

How stinkin' cute is that? He wasn't too too disappointed when the plate of scrambled eggs and toast was set before him, though he said "This is not what I ordered!" He ate it all up, anyway!

Hope you are all having a great weekend.  Enjoy!