The Day I became a Man

They stared at me, waiting for my answer. What could I have said? I never got to order for myself, my parents somehow always knew what I wanted. They were asking way to much me at the time. “I... I... I want… this.” Those were the words that I had told the waitress, as I was pointing at some picture.  She must have been in a rush for I don’t remember her asking my parents to confirm or deny the order I had made. She took my menu and left. I soon felt like a man, I had ordered my own meal. I was a grown up now. I thought I had entered man-hood, and the bright side was I didn’t have to grow facial hair first. I sat there like a man. I crossed my legs when my dad did, drank from my drink when my mom did, and offered witty comments to the conversation. Of course when I did make a comment it was received with puzzled looks, or comments that said “that’s not what we are talking about.” Other than that, everything was great. I was finally an adult. I had waited a whole 5 ½ years for this. I was going to enjoy it. When the lady returned with our food, I was given what I had ordered. I looked at my plate and realized that this didn’t look at all like the picture. I was disappointed. So I took a bite; I was disappointed, again.  This didn’t taste at all like I thought it would. I had ordered a meal, like an adult. I sat still, like an adult. I had commented on the conversation, like a young adult. How could they get my meal wrong? So I, being an adult, said “Mommy, I don’t like it.” “Well why did you order it,” she asked. That caught me off guard; why had I ordered it? I realized the answer, “because it looked pretty.” My mom started to laugh; how could she laugh at me like that, I thought, I am an adult. My dad, without saying anything, handed me his pancake. Like when I was a child, he knew what I wanted. How a Dad could do that was beyond me. I had decided that I would never go to there again. One week later, we went back to Denny’s.