The Fat Mermaid

This is how it all started: on a rainy Monday morning, Rihanna Gaga and I make our way to the Scheveningen boulevard to have breakfast at the beach. The rain is something between drizzling and pouring and feels like it could last all day - how Dutch. Rihanna Gaga is continuously declaring that the rain is 'wow', after which she looks at me with a twinkle in her eye and says: 'papa thinks the rain is stupid?' And like everytime we have this conversation I nod and tell her, yes, I really don't like rain. It's like she looks at this conversation from all sides in her mind, tastes its consequences - the fact that she and I hold different opinions, that this is even possible and how cool it feels to have your own ideas. She relishes it. And so do I. I know it is just the rain - and, I say to myself, it's easy to say for her in her pusher with its plastic protection against the rain - but the fact that she has an opinion of her own at three years old and cheerfully holds on to it, even though her daddy disagrees, fills me with pride.

We reach the beach and seek shelter in a place called The Fat Mermaid. There are only a few other guests: two women and a little girl, and a woman working on a laptop at one of the tables. The little girl is delighted when she sees us entering and picks up her drawing stuff. 'Can I sit next to you,' she asks, and sits down with Rihanna Gaga. The girls start talking away and Rihanna Gaga is clearly a bit overwhelmed. The girl's mother tells me she's a little over three, so the age difference is very small, but the girl is almost a head taller than Rihanna Gaga and quite strong verbally, so Rihanna Gaga is relegated to second fiddle - until she remembers she's got something to bring to the table that comes with quite a few kudos: her baby doll, one of those with eyes that close when you lay it down, can drink real water after it will pee for real. She tells me to get it and the girls play with it for a while, until the girl also takes the lead here. Rihanna considers whether she'll let her or not and looks at me for advice. I nod and tell her this is okay. She nods and when the girl brings a toy version of one of Rihanna Gaga's favourite cartoon heroes - Spot - for her to play with in exchange, all is well.

I order a ginger/lemon/orange tea (a delicious but slightly in-your-face brew) and consider the full breakfast for a while. However, I already had breakfast a few hours ago, so I decide against this and order a Huevos Rancheros (fried eggs, tomato, chillies and avocado on toast) instead. I chat with the waiter while the girls play. I remember this place was called differently when Rihanna Gaga and I did our last tour of the Scheveningen beach clubs, but I can't remember what. Tortuga, the waiter tells me, but this is the secon year since they took over and renamed it the Fat Mermaid. Tortuga lasted for only two years (I remember they were always out of stock and once I got quite ill after eating there, so I'm not really surprised) and they hope to last a bit longer. The interior is typical beach club: wooden colours - beige, brown and white - and they play rockabilly music, which I feel fits its name.

If their entire menu is as good as the Huevos Rancheros I'm served (after a bit of a delay because the waiter forgot the order at first), I am sure they will last beyond this summer. It is as amazing as it sounds. When it is served, the girl immediately steals my tomato, before asking if she may. Her mother corrects her, but it's okay. Then, she and her mother have to leave. She asks me if she can come over to our place one day and play, and I say she may. Then they're gone, much to Rihanna Gaga's dismay. She keeps asking me where the girl went and I tell her she went home. She left the drawing material, which apparently belongs to the beach club. Rihanna Gag asks if she can play with it and I tell her she'll have to ask the waiter, which she does. Once she's allowed to, she proceeds to draw the girl she's just played with, together with her toy dog.