Mr. Tiny Head and his women

We last left Mr. Tiny Head as he rolled his ice chest away from me, his pounds and pounds of brisket safe and cold.  But that was not to be the end of our brief encounter. 

The following morning, Sunday last, I waited for all the hotel guests to come to breakfast.  It's one of the many things I do in the morning. I greet them, I ask what room they are in and I show them to a table and explain the breakfast procedure.  (I sort of gag along the way, but I try to hide that from them, the delicate flowers that they are.)  
In walks Mr. Tiny Head!  By himself, although I know he is with someone, so I ask "Are you waiting for friends or....?"  He answers "Yes, my wife and her sister.  We are friends of the bride you know." 
Me:  "Would you like to grab a table and wait there?"
MRH:  "No, I will sit here in this chair."   And he sits down on the lobby chair and starts talking about his father and his grandfather and meanwhile I am trying to deal with other guests and make all the appropriate noises at the same time.

After a few minutes, I turn my head and he is gone! Quite stealthy is Mr. Tiny Head.  Minutes go by.  More minutes.  And then I see him return and he is followed by what looks like a collection of those little Russian dolls, the wooden ones that are carved and nest into each other.  The first one must be his wife.  She is about a half foot shorter than MTH and quite wide but she also has a very, very small head!  It's amazing!  She is followed by another woman, about 4 inches shorter, then another one, 4 inches shorter still and on and on.  There were 6 of these dolls, the last one being about 50 inches tall......  (about 6 inches shorter than me) and they all looked sort of alike!

It did not seem possible that they all stayed at the hotel unless they indeed nested inside each other all night long like Russian dolls. (Hey, stranger things could happen.)  I had to ask "So, what rooms are you staying in?"  (I sort of knew the answer in advance but I still had to ask.)

"Oh, only four of us are staying here, the rest just came to visit but we will all have breakfast and we are going to move all these tables (4 of them) together so we can all visit with each other and, honey, can you bring us some coffee?"  

Me:  "Umm, we aren't actually a restaurant and while you are welcome to the granola and yogurt on the sideboard, only the four of you staying here can have breakfast. And no, sorry, you cannot move the tables.  There are other guests to consider."

Pause.  A long pause. Some shuffling of eyes.  Some pursing of lips. Silent waving of hands.  Finally, Ms. Tiny Head says "Oh, chile, that will be fine, we'll just all share whatever you give us."  (Realize, please, that I am probably 15 years older than her, so being called "chile" was a little odd.)

I said OK and left the dining room.  They squished 6 people at a 4-top and the other 6 (they had other friends I have not mentioned) sat at another 4-top on the other side of the dining room area.  They ate a lot of granola and yogurt and shared the main course and, of course, with that many people, made a mess of the table.  (But many people do, which is another topic for another time.  How can grown up people spill so much food on a table in such a short time?  And does no one clean up after oneself anymore? Baffling.)

When they all filed out, like circus clowns, they did say thank you and all that.  But it was such a strange thing and so many of them ate for free that it almost seemed like a huge intrusion.  Whatever.  

Mr. and Mrs. Tiny Head and their nesting doll friends came and went.  Their adventure was over.  The cast of characters that checked in after them brought new depression delights that plague amuse me still.

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