COLIN HOGG

COLIN FINDS CATCHING UP WITH KIDS CAN BE COSTLY!

Ididn’t look up at the waitress as she explained something about the menu, having forgotten for a moment that the waitress was my daughter.

But I was discombobulated, never having been waited on by a daughter before.

The darling wife and I were up in Auckland for a night or two on assorted work tasks and keen to catch up with the 19-year-old daughter, but Maddy was so busy the only way we could see her was to book dinner at the restaurant where she’s a part-time waitress.

She’s also a full-time student and sometimes a model, something she doesn’t take too seriously, thank goodness. “Why doesn’t she smile?” Maddy’s 92-year-old grandmother asks whenever she sees photos of her in magazines.

“They’re not allowed to,” I say. “What’s the world coming to?” Mum says.

Anyway, back at the restaurant, which was pulsing with deafening dance music and young city types inhaling after-work drinks...

To further complicate things, we’d invited along a couple of friends so we could catch up with several people at once.

And then the waitress came and I thought there was something familiar about her voice. So I looked up, which made me think I really should look at people’s faces a bit more.

Anyway, once we settled into our roles and learned to lip-read, a great night was had by all. We broke two wine glasses, which is always a sign of good times, though when I knocked over the second, the barman thought about cutting us off, the daughter said with a laugh, as we left.

There was no time to see the other Auckland daughter and the three grandkids, but I don’t have to wait long for a proper catch-up as excitement mounts ahead of the family Christmas gathering. All eight grandkids will be there, including the tiny new one, and the five daughters and their five guys.

Unfortunately, there will be one guy missing. Jamie, the only boy in my six-pack, won’t make it home from New York. He’s a chef and he’s just started with a new restaurant, and he’s so important he can’t get away.

His five sisters had suspected this was coming and were giving him such a hard time that he was scared to come right out and say he couldn’t make it. In a bold peacekeeping move, I rang him and told him to stop worrying that he’d be biffed out of the family if he was too busy. It still took him two weeks to break the bad news to the angry sisters.

They’ll get over it. I figure

I’ll just have to save up and go to New York and check on his cooking, though it’s such a long way to go for a decent dinner. The one at Maddy’s place wasn’t up to much. And I say that knowing she’s about to give up waitressing for a new part-time job, in a frock shop in Ponsonby.

Next time I want to see her, I might have to pretend

I’m looking to buy a new top for her mother. This could become expensive.