May
30, 2004 - Sunday
Yesterday we came up to the beach cottage (and had lobster
last night - Harry keeps saying he wants one then deciding he doesn't like
it, although it never goes to waste!) with Grandpa John
and Grandma Judy and that meant breakfast this morning at the Golden
Rooster, a favorite of both boys. We've gotten to know that the morning
train comes by at 9:06and that means breakfast usually ends about ten minutes
before that so we can make it to the crossing
in time to watch the Downeaster go by and stop at the Saco station. That was
more or less true this morning, except for Jeremy.
We've always joked about how Jeremy is a passionate eater, but it's never
been so apparent as this morning at the Golden Rooster. He ordered french
toast and finished quickly. Actually, Jeremy's eating style is generally less
about "quick" and more about intensity and savoring each bite, but
the child portion of french toast is small, certainly too small for Jeremy.
So, mommy gave him some of her french toast and he ate that. When Harry had
had enough of his child portion, yet still large pancake, Jeremy agreed to
take that as well. Awkwardly, by this time it was nearing 9:00. Harry was
getting antsy from sitting still and I agreed to take him up to the train
track. When he realized what was happening, Jeremy anxiously called out, "no
leave without me."
"Did you want to go see the train or eat some more of your [actually
Harry's] pancake?" we asked. He was clearly torn, but decides he would
stay on the promise that mommy and Grandma Judy would stay with him.
What followed at the Golden Rooster after Grandpa, Harry, and I left was an
outwardly visible inner struggle of a two-year-old trying to decide between
two very important things in his life. If it's not apparent, Jeremy
likes trains very much. He's a two-year-old boy in the train phase of
life and there are few allures as powerful as the site of a real train coming
down real rails. Yet for Jeremy, a syrup coated pancake (we do try to go light
on the syrup with the boys, but it's still a wonderful taste) has a serious
appeal as well. I'm told Jeremy decided to go see the train, then to stay
and eat a little more several times before eventually asking whether they
could put the remaining portion of Harry's pancake "in a bucket"
to take with him. (We do not know if that is a phrase Mary has used with him,
although I'm fairly sure that she has taken him to lunch restaurants and likely
offered to get doggy bags for him.) I can only imagine mommy's explanation
of the difficulty of putting a syrup-covered pancake in a doggy bag
as well as a passionate young boy trying to weigh the relative merits of these
two strong desires. In the end, Jeremy did decide to leave and did reach the
railroad gates just as the train came through. All seemed right with the world.
These pictures have nothing to do, of course, with breakfast or trains, but
are from the subsequent trip to the beach. Grandpa brought this kite to
fly with Harry and it was a highlight for the morning. After dinner we
took a ride over to Old Orchard for some fried dough and a little ice cream.
Harry and Jeremy
watched the Ferris Wheel as they ate
their cones.
Comments, Opinions?