A miracle. It’s a miracle, I tell you. Actually, no. It’s not a miracle, more a Godsend. I think that’s right. It’s always difficult to quantify a faith position. All of a sudden my theological understand seems wanting. I’m tempted to spend some time with trainee nuns in the local seminary but after they took advantage of me so outrageously last time, I’m a little hesitant.
Maybe, it was just angels. That’s more like it. Angels.
For the length of this holiday, we’ve not a had relaxed meal together. We’ve either had Scarlett on our knee or thrashing in a high chair, or one of us has been watching her sleep. Food never tastes good in such circumstances.
Tonight something amazing happened. Angels, I tell you.
We’ve grown used to random strangers accosting us in the streets. Wanting to touch our blond haired, blue-eyed baby. It’s quite flattering. Having narrowly missed out on being accepted as a member of the Jackson 5 and Take That, I don’t have much experience of being surrounded by crowds of adoring girls so I was happy to make the most of it. It wasn’t just girls though, a fair number of boys wanted a stroke too. I suspect it’s exactly the same in a boy band. In the end, after so much attention, S almost looked polished.
Inevitably we were the first in the hotel restaurant. There as soon as the doors opened. Our pitiful solution for eating together. At least we had the choice of tables. As we sat down the most amazing thing happened. The waiter came and took S from us. Picked her up and hoisted her away. Our flirty little girl squealed with delight. He waltzed her around the room. He took our order, babe still in arms. He whisked her into the kitchen. Through the portal we watched her pass from chef to chef. I hoped there hadn’t been some terrible misunderstanding about our hors d’oeuvres.
She emerged in the arms of the receptionist. And stayed wonderfully and willingly entertained with adoring attention, for the duration of a four course meal and a couple of beers. I could have wept.
The entire staff came out to say goodnight to her.
I don’t want to push our luck but I’m pretty sure we know where tomorrow’s dinner will come from.
Isn't it amazing what luck babies can bring? Obviously Scarlett is the epitome of charm!
Posted by: Mrs RW | Wednesday, 11 April 2007 at 11:45 PM
Wow. S is obviously charming the pants off them all. Long may it last.
I suggest your next holiday is to Italy - they're good like that too!
Posted by: LondonGirl | Thursday, 12 April 2007 at 09:03 PM
If only I'd had S years ago - who knows how different things might have been!
Now, Italy! There's a good suggestion, LondonGirl. And I always think it's a good policy to plan your next holiday as soon as your last one's over. Nice to have something to look forward to!
c.
Posted by: Carlton | Saturday, 14 April 2007 at 08:43 PM