Charlie watching service at Hotel Ten Mallorca
He’s been part of our working routine since we moved to the island the week of his first birthday.
For as long as he can remember, Daddy spends ALOT of time in the kitchen, Mummy spends A LOT of time running around organising, and then they pack up the van, zoom away and off he goes for a sleepover somewhere in the village.
The nationality of the households who take him into their care is inspiringly eclectic, ranging between Mallorquin, Spanish, South American, American, British, German, French and Scandinavian. They welcome him with open arms and he slots straight into their warm family nucleus behind the privacy of closed doors. Obviously the Mallorquin households are the preferred choice for a six year old, when bedtime falls much later than in other neighbouring countries!
Now soon to turn seven, he’s started to take more of an interest in what we do: Who are you cooking for tonight Daddy? Where is the job tonight Mummy? Would you like some help Daddy? Shall I pack the van Mummy?
Lately that interest has turned to: “How come I’m Charlie and I’m the only one who doesn’t get to go to Charlie’s Kitchen? “, coupled with: “Can I come on your next job? Pleeasssssseeeeeee.”
Last week there was a rare opportunity for him to finally come with us. Naturally, for a private event at a private house, it wouldn’t be appropriate, but on this particular night at the beautiful Hotel Ten Mallorca, the kitchen was far away enough for him to remain ‘behind the scenes’ when the guests came down for dinner, and big enough to keep him occupied (helped no end by hotel owner and loveable Mother Hen Joanna clucking around him all night). And so Holly got a front-of-house assistant to help set the tables, and I got an audience in the kitchen which is always good for morale.
By the time dessert was being served, tiredness was setting in, and so whilst I stayed behind to finish up, Holly and Charlie made an early exit.
On the dark journey home as their headlights lit the way through the windy roads and quiet villages back to Sóller, a sleepy voice from the back seat clarified an important point before nodding off... “It was fun tonight Mummy. Tell Daddy, I might not come to the next one, but I’ll come to the one after that”.
