The Apple and the Tree

The in-laws were in town this weekend and I now know for certain, as if I hadn’t before, what makes Baleen Baleen, at least when it comes to knocking back krill. We're reading from different menus. While I see a selection of good choices with a wide range of prices whose outcome varies from “That was really good,” to “That was okay,” she sees a multiple choice test with an incredibly wide range of outcomes varying from, “Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh to,” to “Owwwwwww, I should have gotten the scallops with the citrus watermelon [followed by a momentary pout],” where she, and sometimes the waiter, have the ability to influence that outcome by poring over the menu like it’s a stock chart from the future. I’d seen it dozens of times before this weekend, but since those first few times I hadn't paid it much mind, mostly because Baleen's been ordering the two entrees she wants and I get the one she likes less, as long as it doesn't have an abundance of onions. But when I saw her deliberation rivaled and even trumped by her dad’s, I saw its origination.

What it meant for me, as Jamie and Ashley pored over the menu talking about each and every item, and then how certain items would taste when paired with others, was that I ate like a king this weekend. Not only because the selections were clearly good enough for me to recognize the difference, but because the deliberation and debate made me all the hungrier. 

And though Jamie and Lorna are back home in Pennsylvania now, and Ashley and I are walking off the excesses of Fish, Mission Chinese, Nombe, Pacific Catch, and baby octopus stew in a spicy tomato sauce brought home from La Ciccia, they haven't left us like they found us. There's the extra pound or two, of course, but also Ollie, the four foot giraffe, waiting for March when Poppy comes which'll bring back Jamie and Lorna and the return of our courtly banquets.