The poor hostess at White Spot. We turned up for brunch this morning, as I really wanted yummy breakfast goodness and no dishes to wash. Plus, it was a total winter wonderland outside. The snow started falling late at night and didn’t let up until early morning.
So Cameron and I suited up for the cold, and headed off. We were almost there when he turned around and told someone to go home. Ahh, I knew what was coming. Some kids have invisible friends. Mine has an invisible lion pride. Sometimes they’re nice, sometimes they aren’t. I reasoned with him, the hostess at the restaurant won’t let lions in, they don’t like animals in restaurants. It’s against health regulations, you know. He changed his tune. These were restaurant lions. Nice lions. I asked if they were big – you know, they only have so much room at the table. He said there was a mommy and a baby lion. Okay, but you’ll have to ask the hostess, I told him.
We got there, and I prompted him to ask nicely. “Oh, I bet I know what you want,” said the young woman, reaching behind her stand. “Oh, I highly doubt you do,” was my answer, laughing. She had to ask Cameron to repeat himself, and he pointed at the doors, where the lions were politely waiting permission. “Er. Lions?” She asked, peering at the door. I explained that they were restaurant lions, and would behave themselves, so could we have a booth please? I’m proud of Cameron for asking so clearly and politely, and proud of myself for keeping a straight face despite the look the hostess gave me.
The lions did indeed behave themselves, for the most part. Cameron chased one a little ways, stomped his little feet and ordered him out. Returning to the booth, he explained that the lion wasn’t hay-ving itself. But the mommy and baby lion were well behaved, and Cameron shared his breakfast with them.
I so wish I was an artist. It would be great to take a picture of us at the booth and photoshop in a pride of lions.