Mixed Berry Pie

After eating some fries, accepting a couple bites of salmon and going through many, many stickers (the new favorite activity,) Lucas was ready to leave the restaurant.

Chris went upstairs to work and Lucas and I took a walk to the Astronomical Clock. We walked a new route, just one block over, in order to circumvent a handicap access ramp Lucas has declared his personal playground. This detour is not too shabby. In the 5 minutes it takes to reach the clock, I have window shopped at Prada, Gucci, and countless other designer stores.

We reached the clock and decided to keep going. If you have been to Prague, you know the maze of cobbled-stone streets in this area, filled with shops, cafes and tourists. I still get lost in them. So I was surprised when Lucas, with his stomping feet and bobbling head, targeted a cafe we had gone to two months earlier.

There is nothing really distinctive about this place...gelato in the window, a few cafe tables near the front. But Lucas knew exactly what he was doing. He marched past the long row of gelato (he can't stand the stuff) and straight for the berry tart. "I want this," he pointed.

Two months ago, we had stopped here and he had inhaled a large slice of mixed berry tart. And that is what he set out to do tonight.

There were a couple of girls from Nebraska who were watching the scene. I told them the background and they mentioned that even they had trouble finding the place again.

We were like a well-oiled machine, Lucas and I. I would fork up a bite of pie, then get distracted with talking to the girls. Lucas's hand, with it's little dimpled knuckles, would grab my arm and direct the bite into his mouth. Repeat. Repeat. I didn't get a crumb.

Soon after the tart, Lucas ran out of the cafe, turning back briefly to explain... "Dings!" So I grabbed my purse, bid farewell to the Nebraskans and followed him to the clock, just in time to see the Walk of the Apostles.

Tomorrow morning, Amsterdam!