I grew up in Tasmania in the 1970’s and 80’s, at this time nothing resembling cafe society was happening down there! Although, for the sake of readers south of Bass Strait (and all potential tourists) I might add that things have dramatically changed in the last 20 years!
Once I had developed to the stage of pretentious teenager there were two places I was known to lurk, which in a general sense would pass the definition of a cafe. They had the unlikely names of Fannys and Mr Woobys. With names like these it’s self evident that they weren’t the home of funk! However, without many options open to us, myself and my “fashionable fringe” friends would turn up dressed in black, order espresso coffees and dream of Melbourne. We would be served a dubious beverage, the colour of dirty dishwater in a tall glass cup with a handle and a long ice cream spoon!
The world has changed and gourmet food is now mainstream, coffee is good almost anywhere and beer is the new wine. Into this world my lucky little offspring have been born. At the grand old age of 3 years Big Sis can order for the whole table, request water if there is none presented and keep her end up in small talk with the waiter. She can also critique a babycino down to chocolateness, froth, heat and extras (such as marshmallow on the side).
Little Bro and I often pop in for a quick coffee after dropping Big Sis at Kinder in the morning. We usually go to the same place, Little Bro likes a gingerbread man (see above) and a babycino. This particular morning, however, I thought it might be nice to try something different and ignoring Little Bros objections walked past our normal spot into a lovely little organic cafe that has opened down the road.
It was beautiful - a quiet, gentle space with nice background music and healthy smells coming from the kitchen. As discussed before, Little Bro isn’t a great fan of changes to routine so he was suspicious, alighting from his pram he looked around in a hostile way making dissatisfied grunts and whimpers.
I ordered a strawberry and quince muffin straight from the oven, a flat white and a babycino and took a seat. The babycino arrived first and Little Bro took one taste to discover that instead of chocolate sprinkles it had been covered in carob! He erupted like an air raid siren and threw himself prostrate on the floor. I gathered him up as the muffin arrived and I presented it to him. In his own 19 month old way he was expecting, I suspect, a gingerbread man. He was inconsolable and more than that - furious!
Mustering all my parenting skills I realised that the situation was not salvageable and thinking along the lines of - you can’t negotiate with terrorists - I took the muffin in a paper bag, my coffee in a takeaway container and beat a hasty retreat! Every time we walk past the shop Little Bro points and yells “yuck”!
I’m afraid to these kids the story of my growing years without good coffee or adequate cafe society will be like a page out of Dickens. Did you really have to drink bad coffee in a place called Mr Woobys mummy? It will be beyond their comprehension!
babycino, coffee, gingerbread man, kids and cafes, tantrums
