A Birthday Dinner

It was Simon’s mother’s birthday, and he had decided to take her out for a quiet dinner. They walked to a small family restaurant that she loved. The street was quiet and the evening was mild. “Good evening,” the waiter said. “I’d like a table for two, please,” Simon said.

The waiter showed them to a table near the window. The room was warm, with white tablecloths and a small vase of flowers on every table. “What would you like to drink?” he asked. Simon’s mother said she would like some water, while Simon asked for an orange juice.

When the waiter brought the menu, they took their time. “I’d like the fish,” Mum said at last. “I would like the chicken soup,” said Simon. The waiter wrote their order in a small notebook and disappeared into the kitchen.

A few minutes later, he came back with a big plate of rice for Simon. “Excuse me,” Simon said politely. “I’d like the soup, not the rice.” “I’m so sorry!” said the waiter, blushing, and he took the plate away.

The soup soon arrived, followed by a small cake with a candle. “Happy birthday!” the waiter said, and the other guests clapped. Mum smiled. “Would you like a piece?” she asked Simon. “Yes, I’d like a big one!” Simon felt that he had chosen well.