On the 2 days that You must be mad entrusts her into my rickety care, I am responsible for Little G's meals from breakfast to dinner. Sometimes I am left instructions as to what is available in the fridge. Sometimes I am left to my own devices.
On Wednesday however, we always go out for lunch. We head for the same place: Wagamama.
For those who don't know, Wagamama is a kind of Japanese/Asian upmarket caff
The diners sit on benches at long communal tables. Cutlery is in bamboo holders and there are various beetley coloured sauces.
The good thing about Wagamama, which makes it our default diner of choice, is that it caters for children. We sit in a special area, which has buggy parking, clip on high chairs, crayons and drawing paper. Little G enjoys the odd suck of a crayon while waiting for her meal to arrive.
We are creatures of habit, so we order the same food every week
It saves time. I have a small chicken ramen. Little G has grilled noodles, chicken and grated carrot. It always arrives quickly, which is a Big Plus, as Little G gets miffed if everybody else is tucking into nice food while she has nothing to eat.
Occasionally if Wagamama is full, we have sat in the communal area.
This is interesting for us, especially Little G who likes watching people struggling to eat strange green pod-like things with chopsticks, but you quickly become aware that the enjoyment is not reciprocal in that some of the more chi-chi clientele don't like the sight of a 15 month old shovelling chicken and noodles into her mouth with her fingers
Luckily Little G is far too young to be aware of adult disapproval and as many of the disapprovers drop bits of their lunch all over the table as well, I can't help thinking that at the end of the day there isn't that much difference.
To be continued ... ...