Two-and-a-half
“Is that dim sum?” he asks, pointing to a waiter pushing a cart full of dinner entrees. I can’t fault his logic: as far as he’s gathered in his not-quite-three years of experience, all food served from a push cart is dim sum, his favorite cuisine. Except when it’s actually giant Korean noodle bowls served from a massive tray placed on a wood-shop rolly-cart at dinner time.
No, that’s something else.
“That’s dim sum!” he says, with smiling confidence.
No, Thomas, that’s dinner.
“Dinner?” Suddenly confused now, not quite believing me.
Yeah. It’s nighttime. We eat dinner at night.
“Eat dinner at night?”
Yeah.
“That’s dim sum,” he says again, pointing to the cart.
No, Thomas. Dim sum is for lunch. We’re eating dinner right now.
“Dim sum for lunch?”
They make dim sum in the morning.
“Why?”
That’s just they way it is.
“Why?”
I don’t know. Might want to ask your dad.
“I want to eat dim sum.”
Well, I don’t think we can do that right now.
“Why?”
It’s night time. No dim sum.
“It’s night time.”
Yeah. You can only get it for lunch, in the morning.
“In the morning.”
That’s right.
“I want… I want dim sum tomorrow!”
That’s fine by me, Thomas, but let’s ask your dad first.
“I want dim sum when I wake up!”
Me too. Sounds great.
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