Creative Kids' Activities by Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

Creative Children's Activities by Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

Florence and I clapped and yelled, “We can sleep in!  We can sleep in!” when Laurent was nearing the end of mess crank shift with its 4 a.m. wake-up times.

At home, Florence joined me in the kitchen.  She put on her kid-sized apron and peeled a carrot, which I let her slice under close supervision.

Next, she washed mushrooms and cut those into slices.  She put the carrots and mushrooms together to make a starter salad.  She liked those vegetables with lots of ranch or blue cheese dressing, depending on what was available at the commissary.

I made Laurent his favorite meal – a T-bone steak; mashed potatoes with grated Parmesan cheese; chopped Italian parsley, and butter added to them; and sliced Parisian (white) mushrooms sautéed in butter to eat with the steak on the side.  We drank an inexpensive Médoc with this, but I also liked wines from Spain’s Rioja region with the steak.

My part-time work allowed me to take time off when Florence had free days at school.  On one of Florence’s free days, we went to the zoo.  We visited the farm section and laughed at the pigs lolling in the mud and at hens pecking at each other.

We said, “gross,” when we saw snakes in the reptile house and looked for animals in the nocturnal animal house, but they hid when we went up to glass windows.  That was still a great place to visit, because the dark lighting gave it a creepy air.

Curve-snouted tapirs that looked like pigs begged us for food.  Florence admired the fur on the tigers and asked if they could cross the moat separating us from them.

“I hope not,” I honestly replied.

One of the ostriches ran beside Florence and easily won the race.  The hot, muggy day wore us out.  Florence and I both became cranky.  It was time to leave and go home for dinner in an air-conditioned house.

“Why don’t you take a bath?” I suggested to Florence at home.  She liked the idea and put on her swimsuit and snorkeling gear.  I let her stay in the cold-water tub for two hours.  (Even when the sun is not out, it is humid in the South, which makes it feel hot.)

When she came out, she came and gave me a kiss, leaving a trail of water behind her.

When dad got home from his cruise, we went to Azteca for Guadalajaran chocolate-pepper, mole sauce chicken.

“I hope my favorite waiter is there,” Florence said.

“Oh, and who would that be?” mommy asked.

“The one who said I was pretty,” Florence answered.

“We’ll make sure to sit in his section and talk with him,” I said.

We got his section and talked about food.  I told him we usually went to Pizza Hut, but Azteca was going to be Florence’s fancy restaurant for learning how to eat nicely. 

We had a German etiquette consultant at work, who was also a Washington, D.C. tour guide for private schools.  She took classes to visit consulates for lunches and trade and cultural discussions. 

She told me to find Florence a fun restaurant (Pizza Hut) and a more formal one (Azteca) to practice manners she learned at home. 

We took out books by Diana Kennedy and learned what we could about Mexico as well and would question the waiter a bit after ordering. 

(No feet-on-chairs is not nonsense by the way.  At one time, ebola was thought to be a parasite that could be brought into homes on soles of shoes.  I think ringworm might be transmitted this way.)

I practiced saying a few words in Spanish and let the people at the restaurant know that St. Pius had a Spanish section in its church newsletter that I used to practice reading in Spanish.

I had fun in Norfolk-Virginia, but still feel it is a vacation destination and military town.

By Ruth Pennington Paget, Eating Soup with Chopsticks and Marrying France

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