Simon has recently picked up the expression “the usual” (as in, “bartender, gimme the usual”) from a Daffy Duck cartoon, and has been champing at the bit to try it out in public. Since I rarely take Simon to bars, he figured that maybe the ice cream shop would be a good place to try it out.
“Daddy,” he asked in the car on the way up to Douglass Loop, “can I ask for the usual?”
“Sure,” I told him, “but if the person at the ice cream shop doesn’t know you very well, they may not know what your usual is.” Simon certainly knows what his usual is: Cookies & Cream. In fact, it’s mine, too, and we rarely stray from it. “You may have to explain that you mean Cookies & Cream.”
“Okay,” said Simon. I could tell he was running the scenario through in his little five-year-old head.
Inside the shop, Simon sauntered up to the counter with that “I know I’m going to say something funny” gleam in his eye. He had no idea.
“What would you like?” said the ice cream scooper, leaning over the counter to look down at Simon.
“Two of the usual,” he replied almost cracking himself up in the process.
The ice cream scooper looked confused. “Um, what’s the usual?”
As matter-of-factly as he could, Simon explained, “The usual is when you know me so well that you know what I always order.”
He’s always funny, but I think the kid outdid himself.