The culinary palate of a three year old

On Sunday, we played parents and babysat Jack.

 

 

Actually, it was a last minute thing. And I'd already promised my stomach brunch. Since I'm not one to let a small, stubborn child spoil my breakfast plans, I decided we'd just go ahead and take the kid with us. In fact, i totally got into the urban-mom thing. Here i am, decked out with the ultimate accessory - a red pram. I look cool right? But here's the thing - pushing a pram around Crows Nest is not as fun as the other mummy's make it look. Actually, its friggen hard work. I spent most of our walk pleading with Jo to swap places. "What if you just push it up this hill? Huh? Then I'll take over again, I SWEAR!"

 

 

 

Our destination was St Malo Bakery in Crows Nest, which is one of my favourite places to eat around here. I left Jo to deal with the pram (I mean shouldn't they have parking bays, like every other method of transportation in this city?????) while i took orders.

"Jack, what do you want to eat?"

He looks at the menu, as if he can actually read the choices available, before announcing (with some authority): "I want a brioche with jam and butter."

A brioche? Really?

Jo cuts in. "What's a brioche?" I realise my three year old Godson has a more advanced palate than my husband.

"I don't think they have brioches here." I say.

But Jack remains unperturbed. "Then I'll have a croissant. With jam and butter."

I ask him if he wants some juice, which he does. "What flavour?"

"Blood orange flavour."

Jo nearly falls off his chair. Brioche, croissant, blood orange juice? What can I say, the kid should have been born in France.

Here's the boys, enjoying their food...

And here's Jack enjoying his Jam, which he prefers to eat straight. No pastry necessary. Although he offered to share half of his croissant with Jo, he claimed full rights to all condiments.

 

 

 

The kid and me. We love each other really.

True Love and Betty White

Sometimes, i wonder about true love. Not because i think i haven't really found it, but because nowadays, there doesn't seem a whole lot of truth to the notion. I know this sounds weird for a newly married woman, but hear me out for a second. I have the same fears as everyone else - with so many marriages ending in divorce, and so many broken relationships all around us, its hard not to. Even when you think things are solid - it could be that they're not. That's the risk you take.




So i was thinking about true love, that special sort of love that stands the test of time, and i happened across a program called In the Actors Studio. The show has a different actor on every week, and the host will take them through their life and achievements in front of an audience of students studying to be actors themselves. This week, the actor was Betty White.




I'm not sure how much you know about Betty White. These days, the name is synonymous with The Golden Girls, or The Proposal, or that Superbowl ad where she's playing like a granny on the field 'till she takes a bite of Snickers. But actually, she had a very long, very illustrious career in television, way before the Golden Girls ever was. And although she'd been married before, it was through television that she met her husband Allen Ludden. They were together 18 years before he died - the love of her life, she's said. After he passed, she never remarried.





So I'm watching In the Actors Studio with Betty White, and the host's last questions to her is "If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say to you when you arrive at the pearly gates?"




Without missing a beat, she answers, "Come on in Betty, here's Allen."




I'd be lying if i said i didn't get a little teary. Because THAT'S the point. It's real. It exists. And when you're lucky enough to find it (like i have been), you really do carry it in your heart forever.

New shoes (Or, I Love My Husband)

Friday was a bad day at work. Really bad. Like, tears and hysterics bad. Like, why do I even bother to turn up every day bad. Like, is it time to resign bad. Which was a shame because I was really looking forward to my weekend, and I didn’t appreciate ending the week on such a low note. I knew I had dinner out with David and Mel that night, so I plastered a smile on my face and soldiered on. A few king prawns and a glass of wine later, I was feeling a little better. And it helps to be around funny people who know how to make you laugh. Still, on the drive home my stomach felt heavy and I the thought of going back to work on Monday, even though it was a whole weekend away, really, really depressed me. I went to bed in a funk and woke up the same way. And then my completely wonderful husband produced the very thing that made all the badness disappear. “Late wedding present,” he said, “just cause I love ya.” The present came in THIS bag:

Now, if you know me, you know my feelings on Chanel. I mean it’s the ultimate in class. Still, we don’t exactly have the money to go splurging on designer goods, like, ever. But if and when we ever would, my pick would always be Chanel. So this was all very exciting. Ta da!

Needless to say, I love my new shoes. I stroke them lovingly in private. I cradle the box like a little baby. I dream of the day when a Chanel bag will compliment the whole look (this is many, many years and thousands of dollars away, but hey, a girl can dream.) But most of all, I think about how lucky I am to have a husband who goes out of his way to treat me, just because.