One morning as I was reading the paper and enjoying a cup of coffee, Emily walked up to the kitchen table with mini etch-a-sketch in hand.
I said, "Hi Emily", and reached over and tousled her, what seems to be perpetually tousled, hair.
She didn't say anything. With an expectant look on her face, she stood there with the "pencil" poised over the mini etch-a-sketch screen. I sat there trying to figure out what she wanted me to do.
After a few seconds I asked, "Do you want to draw me a picture?"
No response
"Do you want me to draw you a picture?"
No response.
As I sat there contemplating my next question, Emily finally asked, "Sammich?" (That's sandwich in the dialect of a two year old)
I mentally scratched my head for a moment and then it finally registered. "Yes I'll have a sandwich", I said.
Emily scribbled on the mini etch-a-sketch and looked back up at me.
"And I'll have a yogurt." More scribbling
"And a juice." Scribble, scribble.
"And a smoothie and that's all."
A last bit of scribbling and a smiling Emily looked up and said, "Okay."
She then sauntered off to the living room to, I can only guess, put in my order. A few seconds later she returned to take another order from me. Of course the whole waitress routine was quite darling the first five or six times. Once you approach the dozen or so range, it gets hard to come up with anything unique to order. As is most often the case, the newest distraction came along just in time and spared me another round of ordering.
Later I asked Debbie if Emily had done the waitress routine on her and Debbie informed me that she had already put in her double digit orders.
I learned two things from this encounter with Emily. One, it's amazing, to me, that she picks up on the subtle goings on in life around her. Two, we obviously go out to eat far too often.