Restaurant royalty

It's no secret that we like to eat out. We definitely eat out too much, especially because sometimes when I pick up Biscuit from day care, we'll get to the car, and he will ask, "Where are we going for dinner?"

We're also creatures of habit. We find places we like, then we frequent them, and become regulars.

We started early teaching Biscuit table manners and how to behave in restaurants. We knew if we were going to frequent eateries, Biscuit couldn't be a wild man, running around, throwing food or being a little snot.

He also orders his own food. I remember when I was a kid, my Mama would give us a couple of choices on the menu to choose from, but when the server came (and they were waitresses and waiters back then), we told them what we wanted. And we've done the same with Biscuit.

We also told him that it was important to treat servers with respect. When they tell you their names, you should remember them. And he does a good job of it.

We were at one of our favorite Italian restaurants one night, and Biscuit ordered a slice of pizza and asked for Parmesan cheese, too. The server brought his pizza but forgot the Parmesan.

As the server walked by to check on another table, Biscuit said, "Excuse me, Jessica ..."

The server's head jerked around, and she looked at Biscuit with wide eyes. "Yes?" she asked.

"Can I please have some Parmesan for my pizza?" Biscuit asked.

"Well of COURSE you can," Jessica said to him, and she wheeled around and went to get his Parmesan.

It's just nice when you go in somewhere and they say something like, "Hey, welcome back." Or sometimes "Where have you been?" Or better yet, they call Griffin by name or sometimes even a nickname.

Jeff and I have tried to clean some things out of our house. I've been replacing some of my small kitchen appliances with better versions and consolidating on a few things. We also had some furniture to get rid of, some toys Biscuit has outgrown, some clothes, all kinds of stuff.

We found one charity group that will drive a truck to your house and take all your stuff away. So we set up an appointment for today.

Two really nice guys (probably high school kids with summer jobs), both named Josh, came and met us at the house just before lunchtime. As soon as we raised the garage door, both boys walked straight to the Barracuda.

"We'll take this for you," one of the boys said.

"I can't send that with you," Jeff said. They did take pictures with their phones, though.

After we got our garage emptied out, I convinced Jeff to go on a date to a restaurant we like near our house. 

We got there and one of the servers we like a lot was working. She and her sister are both servers there. Her sister has even met Monty, Biscuit's imaginary brother. She made a big fuss over getting to meet him.

The server asked about Biscuit, and we told her he was at day care.

"Has anyone ever told you what all the servers call him?" she asked.

"No," I said, trying to imagine what in the world his name might be.

"We all call him The Little Prince," she said. "When we see him, we go into the kitchen and say, 'The Little Prince is here.'" 

I have to say, I was relieved. I mean, I know Biscuit is mostly well-behaved at restaurants, and we certainly don't let him leave a mess. But still, it's nice to know his nickname is a positive one.

"When we say Little Prince, everyone knows who we're talking about, and everyone wants his table," the server said. "He's so sweet and polite and talks to everyone."

I was very proud of Biscuit for his restaurant nickname. But you want to know the best part? If he is the prince, you know what that makes me? Yep. The Queen! Like there was ever any doubt!