The waitress was one of those super chatty types who wants to tell you her name and life story, which I HATE. She made the fatal error of looking at Elizabeth, who was dressed in a red shirt with heart-shaped buttons and black leggings with hearts on them and saying, "What a cute little boy!" When she saw the looks on our faces, the waitress quickly asked, "He is a boy, right?"
She then stammered something about how she was going to say he was a beautiful boy and that Elizabeth was a very pretty girl. Wendi and I smiled politely, and the waitress made a quick exit. I could tell she knew her tip was shrinking by the moment.
But honestly, how could anyone think that this sweet little thing was a boy?