Three Generations of Women Sit In A Baker's Square Booth
Mom and Grandma came up yesterday to have lunch with Carrie and me. We went to Panera which seems to be the choice of every Rochesterian for lunch on any given day meaning it was like eating on a plane. "Here, let's sit on top of one another and carry heavy bowls of soup around. This can't end badly!"
It was not relaxing. Or enjoyable, really. Just chaotic. (I had also just come from the bank with more annoying news and stopped by the cell phone store because torture should best be enjoyed numerous times a day.)
Mom forgot to take my picture with Grandma, something she likes to do every time we're together. I envision a board of photographs at one of our funerals with a step by step aging process of two women who were related. She called to let me know she forgot and she was mad. But she was shoe shopping. Bye! (No, seriously, that was the entire conversation, almost word for word.)
I finished up my appointments and magically had an hour and a half before I needed to be home so I called and they had just been debating whether to get pie and coffee before heading back to Iowa. I said, "Of course we need pie and coffee!" and we met at our Baker's Square.
I will pause here and say that indeed, we have "our" Baker's Square on the south side of Rochester. My grandpa came here a lot for treatments and if there was one thing other than loads and loads of bread that my grandpa loved, it was pie and coffee. So he would have horrendous things done to him and tests and surgeries and uncomfortable experiences....and we would head to our Baker's Square afterward for pie. When I was in college, I would often drive over just to meet them for this. Pie and coffee with my grandparents was awesome and not just because it was pie and coffee my broke ass didn't have to buy. We would laugh and howl and I would make fun of him ordering freaking raisin cream pie which shouldn't even BE a pie. But I digress. They were great trips. He should have owned a bakery, really.
Anyway, I drove down and they'd already secured a booth. Before I sat down, I said, "Mom would you like to take our picture?" and she jumped with excitement at remembering to do so. I sat down next to Grandma who smiled and off went the flash.
Then our waitress came by and asked if we all wanted to be in one. Mom said yes. I said, "Who doesn't want to commemorate trips to Baker's Square?" and without missing a beat, the waitress replied, "No one! We are the pie capital of the world!"
Mom and I prepared to have our picture taken. Grandma decided she wanted to drink her pop. So she drank her pop even while the woman said, "Smile!" We probably have four shots of Grandma smiling but looking out of the corner of her eye at the glass she is slowly bringing to her lips. We made fun of her for this. Then we were all laughing and the waitress took the shot and it is an awesome photo - the three generations of us laughing at ourselves. It's the Rosenthal way.
We ate and reminisced about Grandpa and headed out. Grandma insisted on paying and leaving the tip. We had five pieces of pie (one for Dad, one for Carrie), two cups of coffee, and one pop so the total was $23.38. We went to check out and Grandma left the tip.
$1.38.
God bless that woman and her love of change.
She then handed me $5 to "spend it on something I wanted" and teared up and said she loved me and Grandpa loved me and she was so proud, etc. etc.
We walked out to the car and I hugged Mom and said, "She left $1.38. I'm going to run back in quick. Tell her I forgot something." Mom laughed and sent me on my way.
When I got there, the waitress said, "Oh did you forget something in the booth? I didn't see anything..."
I said, "Well, Grandma likes to insist on tipping and I know that, much like Valentine's Day and birthdays and Halloween, she often just throws in random coinage and a dollar because it's what she has on her. And we love her for that. But you were great so I thought I'd even it out."
They laughed. I gave her the $5. It's what I wanted to spend it on.
It was not relaxing. Or enjoyable, really. Just chaotic. (I had also just come from the bank with more annoying news and stopped by the cell phone store because torture should best be enjoyed numerous times a day.)
Mom forgot to take my picture with Grandma, something she likes to do every time we're together. I envision a board of photographs at one of our funerals with a step by step aging process of two women who were related. She called to let me know she forgot and she was mad. But she was shoe shopping. Bye! (No, seriously, that was the entire conversation, almost word for word.)
I finished up my appointments and magically had an hour and a half before I needed to be home so I called and they had just been debating whether to get pie and coffee before heading back to Iowa. I said, "Of course we need pie and coffee!" and we met at our Baker's Square.
I will pause here and say that indeed, we have "our" Baker's Square on the south side of Rochester. My grandpa came here a lot for treatments and if there was one thing other than loads and loads of bread that my grandpa loved, it was pie and coffee. So he would have horrendous things done to him and tests and surgeries and uncomfortable experiences....and we would head to our Baker's Square afterward for pie. When I was in college, I would often drive over just to meet them for this. Pie and coffee with my grandparents was awesome and not just because it was pie and coffee my broke ass didn't have to buy. We would laugh and howl and I would make fun of him ordering freaking raisin cream pie which shouldn't even BE a pie. But I digress. They were great trips. He should have owned a bakery, really.
Anyway, I drove down and they'd already secured a booth. Before I sat down, I said, "Mom would you like to take our picture?" and she jumped with excitement at remembering to do so. I sat down next to Grandma who smiled and off went the flash.
Then our waitress came by and asked if we all wanted to be in one. Mom said yes. I said, "Who doesn't want to commemorate trips to Baker's Square?" and without missing a beat, the waitress replied, "No one! We are the pie capital of the world!"
Mom and I prepared to have our picture taken. Grandma decided she wanted to drink her pop. So she drank her pop even while the woman said, "Smile!" We probably have four shots of Grandma smiling but looking out of the corner of her eye at the glass she is slowly bringing to her lips. We made fun of her for this. Then we were all laughing and the waitress took the shot and it is an awesome photo - the three generations of us laughing at ourselves. It's the Rosenthal way.
We ate and reminisced about Grandpa and headed out. Grandma insisted on paying and leaving the tip. We had five pieces of pie (one for Dad, one for Carrie), two cups of coffee, and one pop so the total was $23.38. We went to check out and Grandma left the tip.
$1.38.
God bless that woman and her love of change.
She then handed me $5 to "spend it on something I wanted" and teared up and said she loved me and Grandpa loved me and she was so proud, etc. etc.
We walked out to the car and I hugged Mom and said, "She left $1.38. I'm going to run back in quick. Tell her I forgot something." Mom laughed and sent me on my way.
When I got there, the waitress said, "Oh did you forget something in the booth? I didn't see anything..."
I said, "Well, Grandma likes to insist on tipping and I know that, much like Valentine's Day and birthdays and Halloween, she often just throws in random coinage and a dollar because it's what she has on her. And we love her for that. But you were great so I thought I'd even it out."
They laughed. I gave her the $5. It's what I wanted to spend it on.