“Glazed twist,” her mother tells her.
The child attempts to repeat the order, but apparently is still struggling with the basics of learning language. She says something that sounds like “gade quix?” Her mother doesn’t bother correcting her, so she starts toward the counter. She stops, turns, and asks her mother, “Did I say that right?” She seems to really want to know.
The girl beams, her baby teeth almost glowing in her smile. She is full of energy, still at the age where mere walking is insufficient. Moving from one place to another means running, hopping, skipping and generally experimenting with vigorous styles of locomotion. She skips to the counter.
The waitress appears and asks, “Yes, dear?”
“Gade … quix!” says the girl.
The girl repeats her order, and the woman, her face a question mark, looks over at the mother.
“Glazed twist,” the mother says.
The girl looks from the woman to her mother and back again. You can almost read her thoughts on her face: Didn’t I just say that? The waitress hands her the pastry in a paper bag, and the youngster empties her handful of coins into the woman’s palm. As the girl starts back toward the table, her mother says, “No, honey, get your change. You gave her too much.”
The youngster retrieves her change and returns to the table.
The concept of “change” will be another lesson for another time. Today, it is enough to know that, now, she can do a grown-up thing. She can order a gade quix.