School's out!

School's out for summer! We wrapped up First Grade last week and decided to have a celebratory dinner at the local Japanese restaurant. Of course, the cooking show is just as impressive as the meal and since the kids have been to the restaurant before, there shouldn't be any misunderstandings like last time.

You see, the first time we took the kidlets to Shogun, the Japanese restaurant, we neglected to fully prepare them for the theatrics that goes along with the meal. We did tell them about safety issues involved with the huge piece of burning hot metal within arm reach of their chair. We had even warned them that the chef would be juggling knives. Those two facts alone had induced a tiny bit of fear and trepidation with this new dining experience. I noticed they were a bit leery as the chef approached our table.

He was very friendly and smiled broadly at the kids asking them their names and confirming their orders. He turned on the overhead fan and the show was set to start. RocketMan watched as the chef picked up what looked like a ketchup bottle. It was red with a pointy cap. What else would a young boy think besides ketchup? He certainly wouldn't think it was flammable.

The chef poured out the "ketchup" onto the hot grill and lit it. An enormous fireball erupted at our table. RocketMan, sure that something had gone horribly wrong with the ketchup, dove under his chair. He was certain that death was upon him. After coaxing him out and assuring him that massive fireballs weren't going to appear again, he gladly sat and watched the rest of the cooking show from under my arm.

BirdMan, meanwhile, was in his element. He is our politician. He's never met a stranger and adores talking to everyone. Our chef was a captive audience and BirdMan took advantage of the situation. He started asking the chef about Japan. We had just finished a book that was set in Japan so he was interested in the culture and language of the country. It turns out the chef was from South America. However, he was willing to tell BirdMan what he knew and teach him some Japanese phrases.

The two of them really hit it off. BirdMan was yakking away with our chef about the book we'd just read and about Mount Fuji. The chef asked him questions and provided the answers if BirdMan didn't know about some element of Japanese culture. After a while they seemed to run out of conversational fodder and a large pregnant silence fell over the table as the chef continued to work.

I could tell BirdMan was searching for something further to discuss with our chef and I watched as his eyes sparkled when he hit upon his idea. He looked up at our South American Japanese chef and asked, "Have you always wanted to be... a Japanese person?"

I felt like I'd been knocked backwards.

The chef politely smiled and told him that he didn't want to be Japanese, he just liked to cook their food.

I told BirdMan that it was time to be quiet and to let the chef work. (Note to self: Work on discretion with BirdMan).

Thankfully last week's trip to Shogun was uneventful. Our chef was very nice to the kids and even let them throw an egg into his hat. GooseyGirl completely missed the mark and the egg ended up splattering the floor behind the him. But then we have always known that baseball isn't going to be her sport.

Fisherville Academy is out for the summer. Second grade starts in August!