"Yes," Brandon replied, before spouting off a few lines in french. The waiter nodded, writing a few lines on the notepad, and took their menus.
After the waiter left, Brandon's mother turned to him. "Did you just take your order in french?"
"Don't worry, I ordered for you too," Brandon assured his mother.
"No, I mean you just ordered. In French," his mother stated.
"But of course. J'Adore specializes in French dishes, and the waiter was clearly french, so it was the only proper way of doing it," Brandon said, as if his mother had just asked him to explain what color the sky is.
"And what did you order?"
"Foie Gras for myself with a vegetable soup. For you, however, I only ordered a salad. You're beginning to pack on the pounds again," Brandon said, glancing down at his mother's stomach.
His mother was naturally taken aback by the last comment. "What did you just say?"
"Oh, do be quiet while we wait for our meal. You're starting to embarrass me," Brandon said, brushing a darkening lock of hair from his face.
Brandon's mother was now furious, but to her surprise she found herself obeying Brandon's order, sitting and stewing in silence as they waited for their food to arrive.
