29 December 2010
elle punches our tickets, and we catch the sled-train to the end of the hall.
she greets us in her best fancy voice [please do come in!], serves up frosted donuts before we can even take our seats. this is my kind of joint.
the daily special is peanut-fish soup with chips and a block of butter. there’s live (indie) music and some après-dinner dancing of the jiggish sort.
in her establishment, there's no tab to pick up and every patron is sent off with a waist-hug and a 'happy day' paper plate.
i'm a lucky mama to spend twenty minutes in my daughter's world, to still be saved prime real estate in her imaginings.