Here it is Friday. Every two weeks, Friday evening has been the time that Robyn, nine, and Maddy, sevenish come with their mom for dinner and a sleepover.
After dinner, usually made by Dave and Emily, the girls would have a bath in our good-sized tub, and we would work out a drama about them, their careers in the food business and their newly-bought in-the-tub restaurant. I would come in as their first diner, and they'd tell me how crazy it was in the kitchen but nevertheless, I, as a person who had (sigh!!) to work all over the world, would be given the best table and offered a glass of wine.
At this point, I would tell them where I had been travelling for the last week, and what I had eaten there. This was their clue to tell me about the special meal which consistently turned out to be an extraordinary take-on of what I would have eaten on my trip. While I was sipping away at my wine, the manager would come out to ask me if I were pleased, and to ensure me that no matter how well I would enjoy the 5 courses, I would be knocked-out by the dessert the maitre-chef would proudly, himself, bring to my table.
Suddenly, there would be Emily, reminding the girls that they hadn't yet washed their hair and that it was time for bed.
Wouldn't it be great if this could happen tonight? It will be again soon, I hope.