"Mommy, roasted chicken~"
The little girl sitting at the dining table babbled as she waved her chubby, pale little hands, pointing at the grouse hanging mid-air on the projected screen.
The woman and her husband, seated right beside her, were making small talk with the chef, Gray. A few plates of snacks were laid out before them.
Hearing her daughter's cry, the woman casually popped the rest of her smoked Red Salmon and yogurt cheese cracker into her mouth. She walked over, patting her daughter's head with a smile. "Sweetheart, this is a restaurant. If you want roasted chicken, who should you talk to?"
The little girl turned, tilting her head to look at Gray, who was watching her with a grin. In a tiny, milky voice, she chirped, "Roasted chicken~"
"You should call him Uncle Gray, or Chef."
"Uncle Gray~ Roasted chicken~~"
"Heh!"
