R. Kent, Conversationalist

To combat the craziness of a rare afternoon with no naps (not my decision, you understand), Kent and I took a little jaunt out to our favorite sushi place. He told me before we left that he didn't want sushi, which didn't shock me at all, so I asked him what snack he'd like to bring and he decided on pretzels. When it was time to order, I ordered a tempura bento box, figuring I could share anything from it that Kent was interested in eating, and then Kent turned to the server and told her in his garbled two-year-old voice, "K want PRETZELS!" I chuckled and explained that he wanted the pretzels I had brought for him, and she thought it was pretty funny once she figured out what he had said.

He's started talking to restaurant servers a lot, even telling them what he wants from the menu if we've talked to him beforehand about what he wants to eat. For example, we went to a seafood place a few weeks ago, and he piped right up and told our server that he wanted shrimp. He said it in all caps, with an exclamation point, of course. It reminds me so much of a story my dad used to tell me, about how when I was a little kid, I once looked a server in the eye and said, "I'd like shrimp, and french fries, and milk." She looked at my dad and asked if that was okay, and he just smiled and shrugged and said, "If that's what she wants!" Of course, this sort of thing can only go so far — I probably wouldn't let Kent order a root beer float or a $100 margarita for dinner — but I think it's pretty awesome that he's already confident enough to order his own meal.

At one point during our lunch today, after he felt that he was getting to know our server, Kent told me that he wanted to tell her about the airplane we were on last weekend. At first, I thought, "Yeah, great, she's going to have no idea what you're talking about and won't be nearly as excited as you are." But when she came back to the table, he started telling her everything that was on his plate (rice, grapes, and pretzels), and then he mentioned the airplane. I translated for him, and she said, "Wow, I've never been on an airplane! Was it fun?" He elaborated by telling her that it was really fast.

She asked if he liked watermelon, and I said he sometimes did but I was never sure from one day to the next. She brought him a little bowl of watermelon a few minutes later, and he really enjoyed it. When she came back later to bring the check, we thanked her again for bringing the watermelon, and he said (while waving his hands in the air to sign), "Watermelon all DONE!" She laughed at just about everything he said the whole time, and they bid each other a fond goodbye when it was time for us to leave.

Soon, he's going to be asking for their phone numbers, I just know it.

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That is a great story. You are going to be in trouble with that guy one day, but it seems like it will be the fun kind of trouble at least :P
When I was about 5 years old I had the opportunity to go for the day with my grandparents to an orthodox Jewish service in Brooklyn NY, a 1 - 2 hour drive in the big car. Any time in the big car with grandpa was fun, but I had no idea what we were getting into. I did know that I was wearing the uncomfortable clothes and that I better stay neat as I was going to get my picture taken at some time during the day. After much strange behavior by grow-ups we went to a kosher restaurant where I proceeded to order "Pizza pie," which the properly attired and likely Eastern European waiter relied "Peeeze of pie? Which kind? Apple, krem pie, sherri pie?" I thought that was so funny, pizza with fruit or cream on it. I told him just mushrooms and peppers and onions would be fine. Everyone at the table thought THAT was funny, except the waiter. I ended up with chicken soup with a huge matzah ball. No pizza at kosher restaurants I guess. No watermelon either. Obviously the experience stuck with me....
That's adorable! Soon maybe he will ask you, "how's your mom's French family?" :-)
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