Sitting to Dinner with my Daughter

I watch her as she digs the plates out of her cabinet.  I can tell that she is proud of the fine meal that she's made, which is definitely not chicken.  She sets one plate in front of herself and one in front of me.  Her fine china is painstakingly mismatched but coordinating.  My design is a butterfly, hers is a heart.  Our guest has not yet joined us.  She had invited two kind young gentlemen but one declined, he had a previous engagement with Christopher Robin.

She decides to serve.  She waits with anticipation as I take my first bite.  "is it yummy, momma?"  I tell her yes it is very yummy, yummy, yummy.  The way she sometimes describes my cooking.  I ask her what she put in it but she won't tell.

She hears Mickey arrive so she sets about gathering another plate.  His is green with a flower.  I am not sure who designed the dishes but I want to tell him I don't think there is any such thing as a green tulip.  Something tells me he is not going to care.

I watch her as she dotes on the constant man in her life.  She feeds him a bite in between each of hers.  Of course, he lets her.  For a man of his age you'd think he would find it condescending but he just stares strongly into her eyes and lets her.

I look at her beautiful eyes.  Most everyone says she looks like her father.  Some say she looks mostly like me.  To be honest, I don't see either of us in her.  She is so beautiful.  I am not saying that just because I am her mother.

Perhaps I am teaching her bad manners when I pick up my butterfly and scoop the rest of my dinner in my mouth.  She decides it looks like fun and sets down the barrette she has been using as her fork and does the same.  Mickey just stares at us both.  Foolish, he must be thinking.

I set my plate down.  I ask her about school.  She mumbles something unintelligible then comes to my side of the table and tells me we can talk later but right now, we have to eat.  She says something about Mickey and then returns to her seat.  She is ready to bring out dessert.

Alligators served in water under a palm tree.  Usually the set-up has a few monkeys but she decided to bypass the monkeys this time.  I get the feeling Mickey may be allergic to them.

I am full so I let her know I won't be needing any dessert.  The company is nice.  Mickey can direct a decent conversation.  He always knows exactly what is on her mind.  I see the two of them and I wonder if my baby is growing up too fast.  Then I look at the gleam in her eye and realize this is her most perfect age.  I don't know how many pretend dinners I will be invited to by my 2 year-old but I intend to be present at each and every one.