Baby Moments

We’re sitting at a table in the back of an Italian place we found on Yelp, Jason, Coulton, and I, all picking at the last bits of Calamari from our antipasta.

“Oh shit,” I say. “I just realized: those three tiny pieces of bread we ate were our bruschetta. Man, that was like, ten dollars. I was really not planning on participating in that.” Coulton and Jason laugh at me because now, like them, I have to pay for what is basically the same bread that they have been bringing us for free this whole time. “You know what I learned though? It’s actually bru-sketta, not bru-shetta, as I had been saying my whole life,” I add sadly. “Oh yeah. I saw that buzzfeed article too,” Coulton replies.

“You know,” Jason starts, “I’m just sitting here watching this baby over there,” he points to a table across the room, “and — normally I don’t think babies are very cute — but it’s just, like, eating this chocolate cake with its brother, and it is so cute.” Coulton and I turn to look. “Oh yeah,” Jason says, “yeah, it’s just puking it all up now.” The baby is, in fact, throwing up chocolate cake all over itself. “Man, I thought I was having a moment there. Then it just pukes all over it.” Coulton and I laugh at him.

Sometime later, the waiter asks if we would like dessert. I really don’t want any but I’m too weak to say no, so I return a distant, “Yessss.” After an uncomfortable pause the waiter asks, “Are you… alright? That seemed really sad.” “Oh yeah… I’d like the tiramisu, please.”