Last night we went to one of our favorite Chinese restaurants for dinner because a) we haven’t eaten out in months and b) my dad basically bribed us to get us out of the house.
Now, I think I have mentioned that my daughter attends a full immersion foreign language preschool. She is currently studying Japanese and French, but picks up a little Chinese and Spanish as well.
So, as we are walking into the restaurant, my daughter starts speaking to everyone she sees. And because they are Chinese, she greets them in Chinese, “Ni Hao! Ni Hao! NI HAO!”
When we walked into the foyer, he maitre’d (I hope that doesn’t sound too formal, should I have just said host?) greets us in English and Jade replies, “Ni Hao!” He looks surprised for a second and looks up at us as if to ascertain if one of us are Chinese or maybe part-Chinese or otherwise get a clue as to why our daughter is speaking Chinese. Then he proceeds to ask Jade a question in Chinese. She answers and he is astounded (so I think). He looks up at us and asks us a question in Chinese.
I blush a little and tell him kindly, “Sorry, we don’t speak Chinese.”
He stares at me and says, “That wasn’t Chinese. I said, you want sit outside or inside.”