Saturday, February 7

Pizza Party


Here is the Birthday Girl on No. 8 at the Birthday Party pizzeria. 


The unanticipated Six Nations rugby at nearby Twickenham means the restaurant is crowded to capacity but despite our size and enthusiasm the staff handles us professionally, gratefully. It is all boys excluding Sonnet and our nanny Natasha - in fact, Madeleine's pendant states: "Birthday Boy." I am right in my element and soon discussing the "Gormities" - pictured in front of Alex and Nathaniel. Goremities for those older than ten are “The Invincible Lords of Nature” (Gli Invincibili Signori della Natura) or two-inch tall non-articulated mini-figures. 

Each has a special skill, you see, and a power-ranking inscribed on the foot which presumably suggests who might win a battle. I also rake the boys about school (grown), spelling and football which they all love, pardieu, with Manchester and Chelsea being the most popular teams. This no surprise since A) each tops in the Premier League; B) Chelsea not too far from Richmond; and C) superior marketing dollars. I am also curious to know about their new teacher, the wonderfully named Mrs. Chattaway. I learn she is rather serious and has the boys on notice already three days into the job (Madeleine's term-one teacher on maternity leave). 

The menu eventually arrives and includes a dough-ball appetiser+garlic butter followed by pizza or pasta - there is a vegetable medley included but rest assured untouched. I know enough by now not to badger them into eating their veggies but Eitan shoots me a dirty warning nonetheless. Madeleine a fabulous host greeting her guests at the restaurant entrance and not seating herself until everybody accounted for and comfortable. 

She makes a point of visiting each side of our long-table to spread her cheer and squeak with her friends. In short, a natural.

Eitan sets his sights on the Nike "High Voltage Vapor" football boots, which retail for £189.99 at the top of the range. When I tell him it is a nice goal to save for he looks at me bluntly: "well, give me more allowance" he says. Fair enough but not so easy - I am happy to receive his written presentation why, including a budget, and add this may not warrant a raise if it makes no sense. We debate chores and how much he should be paid for cleaning the living room or bathroom. Sonnet meanwhile aghast at the idea of an eight-year old wearing such expensive shoes. Eitan and I look at each other knowingly - mom just doesn't get certain things.