When you’re a kid, most choices are made for you. That’s a good thing.
And, while parents’ opinions may differ from family to family, in most cases those decisions are based upon what the big people think is best for the little people.
My grandmother, who we called Momo, lived with us. That was really cool for me, who loved her not only for who she was, but for who she allowed me to be. I learned a lot about life from her, and also about being a Grammy. One of the lessons was about choices.
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When you’re a child, you have to eat what your mom prepares. And, if you carried a barn lunchbox to school every day in the early grades, and a paper bag in the upper grades, all three meals were set in stone. Asking for “something different” from a PB&J sandwich, a baggie of FedMart potato chips and an apple just wasn’t in the cards.
So, about twice a year Momo took me to a magical place where I could choose whatever I wanted for lunch. It was the Woolworth Lunch Counter, with its chrome and naugahyde barstools that spun. She would hand me the menu and say “Choose whatever you like. And choose well.” Ah, the joy of it all. A corn dog, or a piece of fried chicken, even a bowl of soup – all things I might order. Then, chocolate or coconut cream pie. Yum. I’m sure I made some odd decisions on these outings, but Momo never said a word.
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So, when I take my granddaughters on their “Grammy Date Day”, we first make a show of thinking about where we want to eat. There are no restrictions. And they think and consider – because, after all, just having the decision to make is a treat – then each of them chooses, without fail, Hometown Buffet.
Hannah and Katie, eight and seven, grab a plate and go. I’m sure they don’t know that my eye follows them everywhere, delighting in their wonder. Sarah and Maggie need a bit of help - they point and I serve. A bit of fruit, a pile of Jell-O, a scoop of sunflower seeds, precede a piece of chicken, some bare noodles, or a few olives. A Slurpee to drink. A piece of cake, and pie, and a bit of soft serve. And I never say a word.
One day their mom, Alyssa, asked me why they always choose Hometown Buffet.
“Let me tell you a story about Momo…” I said. And I did.
