Taking Orders

Every night before bed, I read three books to Ham. I'm always thankful if he doesn't insist on reading the "food" book or the truck book. There's only so many times we can pretend to eat every food that shows up on the page or talk about what an exhaust does.

But no matter what book we end up reading that night, we bust out the magnet writing board to draw shapes.

I was a little surprised when Ham said this, "Can I take your order?"

Huh?

"Do you want chicken or fruit?" Chicken in Ham's world is another word for meat. He doesn't differentiate his meat.

"I'll have the chicken." I say wondering where this is going.

"Okay." Ham replies and scribbles down a few marks on the board. "What else?"

I tell him that I want milk and berries too. He writes it all down and tells me it will be 3 dollars.

I pretend to pay up, eat my food, and then we switch roles.

I take his order and tell him it will be ten dollars. My restaurant is more expensive. Sorry.

"I don't have any money." I find that really strange since I just paid in pretend cash, but whatever.

"You shouldn't have left your house without your money," I tell him.

He thinks about this for a minute.

"I'll be right back!" he exclaims. He jumps off the bed, throws open the door to (I'm guessing) his pretend car, closes it behind him and drives across the room. He throws open his door, runs into his house, grabs his "cash", gets back in the car and drives back.

"Sorry," he says. "Here it is." He hands me his pretend money.

"Okay." I said and took it. But, next time I'll make him wash the dishes.