At Mama’s Royal Cafe, Oakland, CA.
We went to Oakland’s legendary Mama’s Royal Café the other day as a foursome, for the first time in forever. Or rather, for the first time since the little guy was in a baby seat, which feels like forever. It’s a long period of diminished engagement with the world, these early years. The dark side of the moon.
“Can the little one last the duration of ___ (X, Y, or Z public sphere experience; you pick it) without a physical/emotional collapse of excruciating proportions? Can we?”
This has limited our luxury dining out experience to a coupla taquerias. It could be worse: a good taqueria was always my other culinary pilgrimage (aside from Mama’s) when I returned home to the Bay Area during my half-dozen years’ expatriation in the Great Upper Midwest.
But with the youngest youngin at three, we’re beginning to see the light. Â We made it through the whole meal at Mama’s with nothing more than a little pre- and post-food loopiness. Â On the little guy’s part. Though the beloved and I got a bit dizzy, too.
“Here we are! In an actual restaurant! And nobody’s spilled anything yet, or burst out crying!”
We’re gonna drink it all in, all of this. There’ll be a time (won’t there be?) when we’ll be lucky to get the two of them to sit with us in public for the duration of a meal without texting their chums under the table.
“ZOMG Baba just said I <3 U!!! Again!!! LOL!!! BTD!! CUL8R!”
Carpe diem. I try to enjoy this little window when my kid isn’t embarrassed by us (with our horsey laughs and mismatched clothes) and we aren’t embarrassed by them (with their temper tantrums and throwing of food).
I guess each age has its gifts, and for this “young kid” stage seems one gift might be the sweet lack of self-conciousness on their parts.
Welcome aboard the SS LD, rockyv! You put it so well: it’s a special window, this, with an incredible view.