Recalling old times, with dad in London

When my dad visited me in London recently, I took him for a classic English afternoon tea at The Ritz Hotel. The thought of showing him a piece of authentic British life excited me for weeks, so when we finally sat down in the Ritz's elegant tearoom, beneath its tall and decorated ceilings, with the sound of a pianist in the background, I was thrilled.

I looked at the polished silver tea stand topped with finely cut sandwiches, freshly baked scones, and mouthwatering pastries and teacakes. I was ready to dig in.

Then I looked at Dad and a trace of nervousness flashed across his face. He carefully copied what I ate and how to use the knife and fork, and from time to time anxiously looked up at the stern waiter in his bow tie who was serving our table, as if seeking reassurance for his behavior.