Mother and I also had each others company during breakfast
every morning. We usually join the 'middle class' (Mother's description, not
mine) downstairs in the main restaurant for breakfast. However, on our final
morning, we went upstairs to the Executive Lounge to eat. To be honest, I did
actually notice the better quality of the food (it's delicious everywhere...
but if I were perpetually picky, you
know). I also noticed the bottle of champagne and rapidly realised that this was, of course, the main
reason we were here.
Immediately, Mother heads for the champagne. As soon as she
sits down she demands I get up and do similarly.
"Oh... no thank you, I don't actually want any
champa---"
"NO DARLING! Not for YOU! For ME! Go and get
another glass for me! I need two but
I can't go and get another right now or they'll think I'm an alcoholic!! You
have to do it."
It's 9am and I don't have the energy to argue.
As we are eating our high-quality breakfast, we both relish
in our favourite pastime; people-watching. There really aren't very many people
at all, perhaps five tables occupied. This is too much for Mother as she would
prefer the entire dining area to herself. Apart from the butlers, whom may
stand delicately in the corner until summoned.
There is one fairly old couple a few tables away and I look
lovingly towards the gentlemen who has hoisted his beige trousers up to his
neck. So cute, I love old people. There should be more of them. Less children;
more OAPs please. Anyway, his wife is sitting across from him.
"Oh look!" Proclaims Mother pointing at the wife,
"she's holding her knife and fork properly. That's unusual for someone in a blouse like that."
Excellent. Nearly choked on my Alpen.
At this point, a young, tall African-American woman walks in
with a toddler. I instantly look at Mother...
"what is
that?!?" Mother whisper-shouts at me. "Children in the Executive
Lounge?! Surely that's not allowed?! WHAT
ON EARTH IS GOING ON THIS IS A CHAOTIC MESS OH GOD IT'S A FREE FOR ALL OH MY
GOD!"
At this point, Mother is on her fourth glass of champagne. I
had tried to offer her a cup of tea, or juice (like the rest of the planet
might choose for breakfast. Why do they even have champagne on offer up here?!
I should have asked them to take it away before Mother saw it. I blame myself.)
She's found some strawberries too, now. One by one she plops
them into her champagne, each one contributing to her glorified smile of
satisfaction on her face.
I look up from my food and am graced with Mother's absolutely terrifying face. I have seen
this before, many times and yet it still manages to frighten me. I notice it is
not aimed at me (good)... instead her line of vision lands upon the small
toddler (bad). I turn to look at the small child and see she is transfixed by
Mother's face with a cheese slice hanging from her mouth. Mother is literally
glaring at this child and I am unsure how long this has been going on. Her
nostrils are flared, teeth gritted, eyes wide, fists clenched. Oh my God, she
is glaring at an infant again.
I lost it a tiny
bit here; "OH MY GOD STOP! EVERY
TIME I LOOK UP YOU'RE DOING SOMETHING INAPPROPRIATE!" Honestly, it's
like looking after a child of my own most of the time (all of the time).
With this slight intervention, I took charge and dragged
Mother away from the child... and the potential fifth glass of champagne.
xoxo
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