Once upon a time ... (this is a short story told in photographs) ... there was a little girl named EM ....
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This is EM, the heroine of our story ...
... who would like to state for the record,
that her Papa is mistaken about her being 'little,'
as she's rather tall for her age. |
who wanted to go for high tea with her Papa ...
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Note Papa's new threads, lookin' fine I might add ...
(EM's comment: "Papa, you need a haircut.") |
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| We really should buy shares at this place ... |
The principals of this story, Papa and EM, were ushered right in, the first customers of the day, and were asked if they had reservations. Papa informed Jan, the server who greeted them that, yes, there were reservations, and it was EM who made them. Jan remembered the phone conversation and warmed up to little EM right then and there. And why should not Jan warm up to EM? For, after all, EM is the heroine of this story!
They were seated at a rather grand, high table. Too high! So they chose, instead, a comfy little table in the cosy, and very pink, tea room.
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| "Papa, I get the smoky ham sandwiches!" ... I'm told they're quite good. |
After much deliberation, EM chose the "Lady Belle Tea," which was the Princess tea to the far-too-grande "Queen tea," and were served Earl Grey (Papa's staple) and White Cherry tea (EM trying, and liking, something new). Then came orange marmalade scones with clotted cream and strawberry and raspberry jam, and then finger sandwiches on a platter along with several varieties of pound cake. A very satisfying tea where our getting to know each other better conversations were those of EM pointing out the paintings, souvenirs and other people's conversations, and of Papa agreeing with her.
"Papa, do you always say 'yes' to everything I say?" asked a bemused and amused EM.
Papa's answer was a "Yes," with barely the slightest hint of self-aware irony.
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EM enjoying a quiet moment at her new home she just bought,
with her inheritance after the surprise discovery that she was
the Marquise d'Aquitaine and related to Eleanor Dashwood.
Papa, reasonably: "But I thought Eleanor Dashwood was a fictional character..."
EM, impatiently, ignoring his obtuse observation: "Papa, you nee a haircut!"
Papa, smirking: "Yes." |
After the tea, they lived happily ever after as EM swept off in her horse-drawn carriage driven by her ever-trustworthy driver (EM: "Papa! Keep your hands on the wheel and your eyes on the road!" Papa: "Yes"), and her Papa, much afterward, made a beef stroganoff dinner from scratch for the whole family.
But that is another story.
The End.
