Hangerbager

(Or, you know, hamburger to the rest of us).

Today was Lea’s birthday, and so we took her out to lunch.  It is an adventure going out to lunch with two kids, but it is just possible provided the parking gods and the service gods are on our side.  So with a few small burnt offerings in appropriate places, we set out.

And it was pretty good.  Margaret drank her milk in a very competent fashion, all by  herself from a cup with a straw and a top.

Ellie found this somewhat surprising.

But then she decided that it was all right.

Margaret looked longingly at the video games, but I blithely gendered video games by telling her that that was something she could do with Daddy.  I’m sure he’s thrilled to hear that.

What I was impressed by was that I asked her what she wanted to eat, and she said a hangerbager, which I figured was a hamburger.  So I ordered it for her, and when it came she let me cut it in half, and she ate it by herself, neatly(ish), and asked for a napkin to wipe her hands, and dipped her fries in ketchup, and in general comported herself like a real person who doesn’t need CONSTANT VIGILANCE while she eats.

Of course, we fed her spaghetti (or paghetti, as it is known locally) tonight, and she scattered it hither and yon, so that independence was short-lived.  But she’s getting there, and that’s nice.