George walked aimlessly through the mall, leaning forward on the stroller's handlebar, it politely creaking under his weight. Sophia had adopted the half distant stare of all fatigued toddlers, and Charlotte had begun stirring in the lower seat. When George checked his watch he realized that Charlotte would need a bottle soon; he decided it was as good a time as any to grab breakfast. George found the only sit-down restaurant open that served breakfast and grabbed a booth. He sat Sophia next to him, and left Charlotte in the stroller until either her bottle was ready, or she had woken up fully.
Hi, my name's Jennifer, do you need a high-chair for your little one?
No, thank you.
Can I start you off with something to drink?
I'll just have a water, and can I get a water for her with a lid on it.
Sure thing, here are your menus, and some crayons, the breakfast items are on the first two pages. I'll be right back with your waters.
Thank you. Oh, and can I also get a cup of hot water, I need to steep a bottle.
Sure.
Thanks.
The waitress hadn't even turned the corner before Sophia was putting the blue and pink crayons in her mouth and reaching for the orange. This was a losing battle for George, he knew complete removal of the crayons would result in a meltdown, so he had to be satisfied with removing them every ten to fifteen seconds from Sophia's mouth or nose until she lost interest. George began looking at the breakfast menu, trying to hone in on what he was hungry for, but quickly realized he didn't have much of an appetite. He tried to frame the search differently, looking instead for something he thought would be best to share with Sophia, but that didn't work either. The pristine, staged photos, looked dirty somehow, George couldn't quite pinpoint it, but there seemed to be an almost invisible layer of grime on the food. He had been looking at the menu so long it started to turn into a psychedelic optical illusion: everything moving in his peripheral, while the center remained neutral. George intensified his focus on the menu, looking for hard, undeniable, evidence of dirt on the food, what he saw instead, shocked him even more: the moving parts were actually kids, kids the size of ants running rampant on breakfast platters. Kids gliding head first down strips of bacon like slip-n-slides. Popping their heads out of blueberry holes in muffins. Diving from stacks of pancakes into a river of syrup, or relaxing in individual waffle pocket hot tubs.
Ok, here are your waters. Be careful with the mug, that water is extremely hot. Are you ready to order?
Have you seen that play area on the first floor?
You mean the Breakfast Frolic? Oh yes, the kids love it.
You don't find it to be weird?
Weird? I've never really thought about it, but no not really.
It's a playground where everything is shaped like breakfast food.
Yeah, the Breakfast Frolic.
I can't look at this menu without seeing kids all over the food. I look at this menu and all I see is kids crawling in and out of sausage links.
Sir, I can assure you that at no point during the preparation, cooking, or serving of our food, are kids allowed to participate.
What would you recommend I order then?
Everyone loves the waffles, they're the most popular breakfast item by far. We have a great meal that comes with two sides and unlimited waffles.
I can't do it. All I imagine are kids filling up those pockets with syrup and lounging in them like a hot tub.
What?
Can I just get a cheeseburger?
Sir, it's nine thirty in the morning, we don't start selling lunch items for another two hours.
Just give me a kids sized order of scrambled eggs, and two pieces of toast please.
Ok, I'll put your order in, and have it out as soon as it's ready.
By the time the food came out, George had already fed Charlotte and put her back to sleep in the stroller. Sophia was able to feed herself, and did so dutifully, shunning all distractions and focusing solely on the task at hand. The waitress returned with the check, instructing George to take it to the counter whenever he was ready. After tidying up as much as possible and loading Sophia back into the stroller, they approached the cashier to check out.
Spending the day with daddy huh?
Yeah, I took the day off work.
You should take them to go see Santa Claus on the first floor, I bet they would love that.
Yeah, we might do that.