The House Of Odd

So tonight I took the Movie Kids out for pizza. There isn’t really any decent places nearby and I wasn’t up for the fine cuisine Pizza Hut or Domino’s offers so the only choice was a little ‘mom and pop’ joint.

We don’t usually dine there but apparently Wednesday was buffet night.  As I studied the laminated one-page menu I noticed that there was only one price for the buffet. When our waitress came by I inquired as to if there was a child’s price for the buffet.

With a look of distrust she asked me ‘How old are they?’ The ‘they’ I presumed was the two children sitting at my table. From previous outings to restaurants with children, I have become accustomed to the ’10 years and younger’ stipulation on the kids menu items.

So figuring I was being lured into a trap I cleverly said, “Uh, they are nine and… ten”. What felt like less than a second later J blurts out “I am eleven!” Her disgusted tone seemed to be alerting everyone nearby, including our waitress, that her father was not able to remember his own daughter’s age.

“Make that nine, and eleven.” I corrected myself. The waitress then informed us that the adult prices start at the tender young age of eight.

Denied. I was stuck paying full price even if my not so clever ruse had worked.

The boy might have been more apt to play along.   After paying the check, as we were getting up to leave he casually leans over and quietly says “I tooted, do not ask what smells.”