Happy Birthday #1

My parents took us out tonight as an early celebration of my birthday. As with all things in our family, the celebration naturally revolved around food, and we decided to try a new restaurant that had recently taken over a buffet place which we had liked.

Although my parents had been to the location of the restaurant many times, with and without us, the name change seemed to confuse them. When my mother called to let me know they were leaving, she asked, “Is it past the Natick Mall?”

“Yes,” I said. “You’ve been there before, remember?”

“Yes,” she said. “Okay, we’ll meet you at Pacific Buffet.”

“Ginseng,” I corrected her.

“What?”

“Ginseng.”

“What?”

“GINSENG!”

“Ginseng,” she agreed, and hung up.

Chris and I drove to Ginseng. We were almost there when my cell phone rang.

I was driving, so I dug out the phone from my pocket at a red light.

“Hello?” I said.

“We’re lost,” my mother said.

“They’re lost,” I said to Chris.

“We’re at Tweeter, Bed and Bath…”

I happened to be at the stop light in front of Tweeter. “Should I move into the left lane and just have them follow us?” I wondered.

My mother was still talking. “…and then we turned and…”

The light turned green, and I had to continue going straight.

“Mom,” I said, “You take a left out of Tweeter.”

I was now at the intersection for the restaurant, so I gave her the directions as I drove.

“You turn at the next traffic light after Tweeter, and then you go up the hill…”

“We left Tweeter,” she said. “Already gone, and trying to turn around. We’re at Speen Street.”

“You went the wrong way out of Tweeter?” I said.

“I don’t know. Is the restaurant past the Natick mall?”

“YES, it is…you have to go down 9 West, then take the light AFTER Tweeter!”

“Oh, then we turned too early. We were wondering where it was and then I said, ‘Let’s just turn here’ and Dad said ‘Are you sure’ and…”

While my mother was talking, I threw the cell phone at Chris.

“I have to drive,” I said. “Can you tell her about going up the hill?”

The way to the restaurant was up a dimly lit hill, and you had to take a back road around several furniture stores to get to the front of the restaurant. I wasn’t sure my mother was going to remember how to navigate the hill.

“Her only point of reference is the Natick mall,” I reminded Chris.

Chris tried to tell my mother where to go, but my mother had apparently already decided they knew where they were going because she kept talking while Chris’s end of the conversation consisted of: “Okay, you need to…Are you….You sure?” and then she hung up.

“She said she knew how to get here,” Chris said.

“I don’t know if I believe that,” I said.

Chris and I were now at the restaurant. We sat in the parking lot, waiting for my parents.

“They’ve been here so many times before,” I said.

“I know,” Chris said.

My parents arrived a few minutes later. My father was driving, as usual, and was grimly frowning as he drove right past us waving at him. He cruised to a stop at a parking spot just ahead of us.

We got out of our respective cars and headed toward some side stairs that led to the main entrance.

“Where’s the name?” my father said. He veered away from us and headed around the building to the front stairs.

“Dad, where’re you going?” I said. “You can come in this way!”

“I want to see the name,” he said. Apparently he was trying to see the awning above the main stairs, so we stood by the doors (each emblazoned with “GINSENG” across it) and waited for him.

Dinner was relatively fast, and as the meal concluded, my father raised his teacup. “To Jane, happy birthday!”

We all raised our teacups and clinked them.

“How old are you?” my father asked.

“You figure it out,” I said.

“Around thirty,” he decided.

“No, but is it over or under thirty?”

He hesitated. “Wait, you were born 73 and now is 2006 so…”

He stopped and stared at me with his mouth hanging slightly open. “Thirty-three!”

“That’s right, Dad,” I said.

He sighed. “That’s old,” he said.

“Now, are you going to remember to call her on her real birthday? Next Monday?” Chris asked him.

He considered this, then shook his head. “Probably not.”

After the meal, we waved goodbye in the parking lot. As Chris and I started heading toward the exit, I turned around to look at my parents who still hadn’t started their car.

“Should we lead them out of here?” I asked. “I’m not sure they know that they can get out through this side entrance.”

“Nah,” said Chris. “Let them have a nice sightseeing tour on the way back.”

Posted by: Supersonic Jane | October 23, 2006 | 9:16 pm
Posted in: This Life