He's Clearly My Kid
Diner #3 is 21 months now. It's obvious he's my kid.
Exhibit A: I came into his room after naptime, to find him reading "Hola, Jalapeno" in his crib and saying "Nobwito*."
Exhibit B: We take him to dim sum every weekend. He eats more than we do. And whenever I drive the route we take to dim sum, whether that's our actual destination or not, he sits in the backseat exclaiming "Sum! Buns! Soup Dump**!" He also pulls out a teapot and our bamboo steamers and regularly throws dim sum parties on the coffee table.
Exhibit C: After a visit to Bi-Rite, we got in the car. As we drove by Delfina, he shouted "Home!" and as we drove by Tartine, I heard "Tine? Sant?***"
Exhibit D: We were in the car, on our way to the Fillmore and the following took place:
Jon: Diner #3, do you want to go to SPQR or Pizzeria Delfina?
Diner #3: R
Me: SPQR, honey? Is that what you meant?
Diner #3: K
Jon (not believing Diner #3 has any idea what we're talking about): OK, Diner #3, do you want pizza or pasta?
Diner #3: Pasta
Jon: Pizzeria Delfina or SPQR
Diner #3: R
Jon: OK, well, I guess he knows what he wants.
We then went on to eat dinner at SPQR, where I had to ask the kitchen to fire me another set of clams for my linguine con vongole because my kid ate all the ones that came in the pasta. We said we'd pay, and apologized. They said if our toddler eats clams, they were free.
I fucking love my life.
"To eat is a necessity. To eat intelligently is an art."
-- La Rochefoucauld
** Soup Dumplings, or Shanghai Dumplings