Let me set the scene. On the A1, coming home from Newcastle yesterday afternoon, we stop off for an early tea at the Moto services in Blyth, Nottinghamshire. Rather caught on the hop as there is no queue at Burger King so I haven’t time to construct the order in my head before I open my mouth. My son, Rory, quickly states his order with no hesitation so it’s my turn and I’m not ready. Eyes flickering at the boards above my head advertising innumerable combinations of Whoppers, I ask a stupid question of the young pale-faced chap who is waiting with bated breath to prod the buttons on his till.
Me: “Do you have any burgers without cheese?”
Now why did I ask that? I’m no stranger to burger joints, for heaven’s sake, I do know you can pick and choose what goes in them. But I’ve said it now, so have to go along with the ensuing conversation.
Him: “You can have mouse without cheese.”
Right. He’s speaking English; he isn’t foreign but I’m flummoxed. Not sure whether to query whether mouse will be deep-fried or just squashed flat and griddled to within an inch of its life. And how puzzling that it should be the mouse which comes without cheese considering how the mouse/cheese relationship is such a close one. Decide to push on with this follow-up question:
Me: “Excuse me?”
Yup, that’s going to work.
Him: “You can have mouse without cheese.”
Thanks, mate. Just repeat it, why don’t you! Didn’t know what you were talking about first time and now I’m panicking. Rory is mortified and has slunk away to gather up handfuls of ketchup sachets. I look to Dougie, hoping for some assistance. He looks equally stumped and is avoiding my pleading look. I have no idea why I don’t just pick a burger, any burger, but I’m scanning the list for something that begins with an ‘M’. Can’t find one so try again:
Me: “Sorry?”
Him: (sounding slightly shirty now) “Mouse without cheese!”
Me: “Mouse?”
Him: (gripping his till with both hands) “MOUST!”
Me: “MOUST?…OH….MOST! I can have MOST without cheese. Oh well I’ll have an Angus then, as a meal, with coffee.”
Oh the shame. Join Rory to pick up sugar and milk cartons and leave my poor husband to continue the order. As we sit down I begin to laugh and then can’t stop giggling. Rory informs me that I’m always embarrassing in fast food restaurants. Apparently I’m ‘too middle-class’. What on earth do you mean, boy? I stopped asking for cutlery and a pepper-mill years ago. He’s right, though. I try to make small talk when I should shuffle to the front and mutter my order with no extra discussion about the weather or how busy it is.
It’s then we remember the classic opener I uttered in KFC when we’d just come off the plane after our gorgeous holiday in Portugal this summer. Again, wrong-footed by the lack of customers, and forgetting where I was, I said the following:
Me: “What can you recommend for three people?”
Rory’s face turned puce and he looked as if he could happily throttle me. The young girl serving was taken aback but, bless her, she stepped up to the mark and said very slowly, as if she wasn’t sure if this was some kind of sad joke:
Her: “Um…well…there’s an 8-piece bargain bucket…and a 10 piece bargain bucket…or a variety bucket. Yeah…sort of…buckets….with a bottle of coke?”
I think it was at this point, before I opened my big mouth even further and debated the intricacies of the bucket combinations, Rory took charge and told me: “For god’s sake, go and sit down, Mum’.
It’s hard trying to be invisible for your children.
Hilarious….loved the pepper mill comment! and at least you and Rory are still in the same place together at the moment…you have a slim window of opportunity because soon he won't be with you at all…enjoy every adventure!
Oh I did laugh! Mouse!!
I remember going into a Taco Bell in Dallas when we just arrived and asking if the tacos were 'hot' as in spicy.
The guy couldn't understand a word I was saying – I think his English was limited to items on the menu, so after some embarrassment, I placed an order and hoped I could eat it. Never went back – too disgusting (and not hot!).
ahhh it's ok, we are put on the earth to give our children something to complain about in therapy later. I can just hear him now Rory:"mouse, she said mouse, oh the humiliation, the agony" Counsellor "that must have been very hard for you to endure, tell me more about how she continued to embarass and annoy you throughout your difficult childhood" 😀
@Libby – Even though I embarrass him, he does see the funny side afterwards and I think he still loves his old mum! Will make the most of the next few years.
@Sarah – One of those moments when you just wished you hadn't stepped outside of the usual counter conversation!
@Kelloggsville – "And then she wrote about it on the internet to embarrass me even further…"
Mouse – HA!
If it makes you feel any better, you're not alone…
Lunch today with a delightful lady from NZ. We were discussing a book my mum had brought the boys back from NZ about sheep and how there were much fewer sheep in NZ these days. These days, she explained, you mostly saw 'die-ree.' For some reason, I thought she was referring to some sort of exotic NZ animal and asked what it was. Turns out we were discussing dairy…you know…cows.
At least it was only me cringing. The boys would have abandoned me immediately.
Haha, brilliant! Surely it's a parent's duty to embarrass their teenage kids, it's character building!
@Ms Caroline – Glad to know I'm not in the minority. Yes, your boys would have removed themselves from your company as quick as a flash.
@Make do Mum – I agree. My mum did it to me, I'm sure. Important rite of passage.
I'm quite looking forward to this stage of parenting, I think I may go further and ask for proper cloth napkins as well as cutlery and a pepper mill.
Oh and a plate of course!
Given some rumours that go around about fastfood joints a mouse without cheese might very well be something they could offer…
@very bored – A plate! I think you'll do very well as an annoying parent!
@Steve – You can understand why it took me a while to interpret the answer. It's all protein.
The first time I ever went into MacDonalds (and I was on my own) I scanned the menu and decided that the "Happy Meal" seemed the best value for money so I asked for one. "What doll do you want with that?" was the response from the server. "Doll?!?!?" was my response. "You have to choose a doll" he kindly advised me. By that time I was totally confused and just mumbled "whatever". Somewhere I stll have it – a sort of plastic princess/bride.
I trust you sent your compliments to the chef before you left?
And the worst thing? I bet some oik stole your tip.
Troy- I bet you wanted that little princess toy really, Troy. At least you weren't as daft as me, always keen to help Rory get a full set of happy meal toys – even the grandparents would partake of a happy meal so we could get all the colours of the Hot Wheels cars! Shameful parenting skills but he seems none the worse for it!
Expat Mum – Ha, yes I shouted through to the young boy on the grill: he doffed his cap in return.
Troy – I do hope not. I left it on the tray above the bin bags.
Mouse is not all that farfetched – it's been on the menu here in New York for years.
I get completely confused by those menus as well. The only way round it is to always order the same thing – but that's very boring and doesn't allow you the delicious fun of embarrassing your children. It's what you were put on earth to do!
@wellfedfred – Just looked at your link. Surely rats must constitute a supersize meal. Do they come with cheese?
@Curry queen – there's a definite skill involved and I just don't possess it. I miss not having a menu in my hand to peruse at my leisure.
My daughter got her own back in her early twenties. We'd go to the mall and while in Foley's or some other large department store, she would say, very loudly "Mom, put that back, you can't do that, I've told you, you can't just take stuff. That's illegal, it's called shop lifting and they'll cart you off to jail". Guess paybacks are hell when you have a daughter with the same sense of humor!!
Marion in Panama
Marion – That's what I call getting your own back! What an evil daughter…but very funny.
very funny, I really hoped you were going to order the Angus with extra cheese. Rory would have liked that. I know exactly what you mean about small talk. I do all that kindly stuff. To the predictable blank face. But, worse, husband has a McDonald's voice, it's meant to make him fit in. God, it's terrible. Rory doesn't know he's born.
There's an immortal line in Pulp Fiction from John Travolta to the effect of "I don't go to Burger King".
You and Travolta??
OH so funny, Trish! I see a flash-forward to my daughter's future. I'm constantly amusing myself already (at the fresh young age of 36) at the bemused looks of teenage staff who have to serve this eejit who's clearly not with it.
Now I know where to come for more hints and tips. Thanks!