>And you are…?

>Tonight at Boston Pizza, a girl I went to grade 7 and 8 with was our waitress. I could tell that she had no idea who I was (I’ve changed, you see) but she looked somewhat the same. I felt awkward because I knew something that I know she should know but she doesn’t know because there is actually valid reasons why she doesn’t know. So I said hi. She freaked out and said I looked nothing like I used to. The guy at LCBO guessed me to be 21 on Tuesday, so I’d say my days of looking like a 12 year old are over. Thank goodness. Getting a kids menu when you are sixteen isn’t exactly a boost for the self-confidence.

Buckles came in with his family and sat at the table next to us. They had nachos.** Our neighbours from down the street sat nearby too. Now that whole thing is an awkward situation in itself, and I don’t even want to get into it…I doubt I’m qualified to talk about parenting strategies on my blog.

They messed up Dad’s order twice…(therefore resulting in him taking two “wrong” pizzas home) so he was bored and hungry. He proceeded to make a chain of straws and poke us. Mother was being silly too (Mom: “I like Lenny Kravitz.” Me: “NO Mom, you don’t. Don’t ever say that again. We don’t like Lenny Kravitz.”). I felt like a parent with two unruly children.

**Nacho side story: Wednesday night Grandma was wondering what to make for a light supper. She listed off the usual – cold meat, cheese, crackers, but needed something else. Mom suggested nachos and salsa, to which she said (quite offended, too): “People our age don’t eat nachos!” I guess Buckles’ Grandma didn’t get that memo.

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One thought on “>And you are…?

  1. >I totally know what you mean about the kid’s menu self confidence boost. Unfortunately I don’t think I’m there yet. Every sunday when Caleb and I go to youth sunday school I get asked at least once what grade I’m in. And, I don’t think my grandma even knows what nachos are.

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