We are on the precipice of a battle between the creativity of humans and artificial intelligence (AI). Microsoft word just offered us a new function, AI assist. When I sat down to write this blog my heart filled with joy to share my experiences of the last twelve years of getting grandchildren off to school and taking them to our local diner where the waitress and cook fussed over them. This is a small-town experience far from the big chain restaurants, a diner famous for gigantic sugary cinnamon rolls and cheap specials. The fare may not be the healthiest option, but comradery with the kids balances it all out. Now, what does all this have to do with AI?
As I started to write our blog, I simply typed in the title “Breakfast with the Grandchildren” and in a matter of seconds AI produced a blog article. It also shut down my creativity. Over the past twenty years I have been creating novels and stories, involving a lot of research and effort. In an instant my computer produced a blog. Kind of scary. I had to ask myself, why bother, why tax my brain?
In this blog we will share the two sides of the experience. The human element is missing in the AI version, although on the surface it is well written and thorough. AI knows nothing of what it is to indulge in human interactions. Yet.
Please enjoy our post, and just so you know, I’m working on our latest novel St. Croix: the gift, which delves deeply into the subject of AI. Aspects of AI are changing faster than I can write.
Dining out with Grandchildren (the human perspective)
Like most grandparents, we find ourselves in charge of youngsters on a regular basis.
Famous last words, “Let’s head to our favorite local diner, it’ll be easier than cooking at home and cleaning up”.
They all insist they do not need to use the bathroom prior to leaving home.
So, we dress them in coats and hats and load up into various boosters and car seats (which involves removing the coats again) and set off down the road for a happy and fun outing, sure to create memories that will last well into their adulthood.
As we enter the eating establishment with the precious grandchildren in tow, we note the hostess taking a big gulp.
It begins with a choice of table. We see the hostess sizing up the kids and sending us to the table where she’s having a tiff with the server that day. Hah! Take that is written all over her.
The children do their best to look angelic. After all, they need fed. It’s a survival skill, looking cute so adults will feed them.
The cuteness is short-lived. These kids need attention. Right now. Before everyone decides what to order. So, ordering the meal is delayed while you unwrap the gratuitous crayons, discuss the reason why we can’t play tic tac toe just yet, and why we can’t discuss the people at the next table, the server’s tattoos, or why we don’t use tablecloths at home.
Unsuspecting grandparents will order chocolate milk, momentarily forgetting the consequences of that choice, in their need to be liked by the kids.
As we peruse the culinary choices, a niggling little voice tells us to order a healthier choice. But then another little voice makes us realize we had better order the choice the precious littles can’t bear to live without. More precisely, we’ll have no chance to eat in relative peace unless their deep and immediate need for chocolate is met.
So er order the fakey mac and cheese and the questionable burger with white bun, sides of fries, and the promise of a sundae/milkshake/cookie if they behave.
Behave is a subjective term, and we still want to be the favorite grandparents. So…
We forget to ask for lids on the chocolate milk, and the server seemingly hasn’t dealt with kids lately, so he forgets, as well. Apparently, he and the hostess had been getting along well until recently.
We finally order, although we haven’t had a chance to thoroughly investigate the options for ourselves. First likely item we spot? Coffee. Veggie lasagna with salad. Solid choices, right? What could go wrong?
Orders delivered; we turn to the children. We happen to be outnumbered on this trip, three to two. It seemed like a doable adventure when we hatched the idea.
As always happens in cases like this, they immediately triangulate. One needs to go to the restroom. The other two insist they do not.
So the adults are divided already, and halfway to being conquered. One leaves for the trek to the restroom, with all of its pitfalls.
The adult remaining at basecamp is left in a quandary. Try to help the remaining two navigate the complexities of tic-tac-toe or focus on just one child while immersing the other in a solitary pursuit. You choose to attempt tic-tac-toe with the younger, while suggesting an art project on the back of the paper placemat to the other.
You manage a sip or two, but the coffee goes increasingly cold while you try to answer the constantly evolving questions of why.
The restroom duo returns to find the coffee completely cold, and that the artist child used their sibling’s placemat, not their own, eliciting a howl from the offended child.
Outright war averted by donating your own placemat, you simultaneously move all the pleasantry articles out of reach from the table, after witnessing the salt and pepper shaken into the flower arrangement. This involves placing said items on the table next to you.
About this time the meal arrives. It looks lovely, a feast of various delights for each diner’s current preference.
As I pull a child back from the depths under the table, the server departs for ranch dressing, ketchup, and replacement coffee for the coffee that’s gone completely cold, you do your best to engage the children in giving thanks for the bounty.
They decide they can be silent, after all. Who knew?
Our thanks given, we dig in. Or rather they do, after we have helped cut, dress, place, chop etc. their choices.
As they begin to eat, they begin to squirm. And kick their feet against their chair. Or their neighbor’s chair. Something about their eyes seeing food in front of them seems to kick the rest of their body into overdrive.
As we turn to our well-deserved repast, the middle child decides her milk will look better all down the front of her dress. Well, that’s one way to get attention.
We use all cloth napkins within reach to stop the flow from reaching her seat or the floor. We’re mostly successful.
We manage a bite or two of lasagna, which seems like it might be delicious. Not sure. I’m focused on the child who is rubbing their fork over all surfaces within reach—under the table, on the seat, and along their coat hanging on the back of their chair.
As I swallow this first bite and redirect that child, I notice another child spitting a mouthful back onto their plate. Well, at least close to the plate.
This is about the time the squirming morphs into actual jumping from a seated position, launching themselves into the air repeatedly with only their pent-up energy as propulsion.
Shortly after is when the adult stomachs also begin jumping in tune with the youngsters’ jumping.
The youngest decides to start a garden growing under the table by shaking your elbow at the precise time you’re lifting your first bite of salad to your mouth. So far, he has missed his own mouth 7 of 10 attempts, adding to the sub-table garden scene.
As the server returns with replacement milk and lids all around, the oldest decides now he does need to go to the restroom. As in right now.
We stare at each other in utter dismay. Which one of us will completely forego any attempt to enjoy the meal, by accompanying this child to the distant restroom?
The one who has managed to get three complete bites in volunteers. As he stands to leave the table, the youngest demands to go along for the ride. That’s not happening.
The adult remaining at the table, who thought they may have a reprieve, will deal with that child’s unreasonable request. This discussion proves lengthier than thought possible.
As we finish our meal and exit the restaurant with our stack of to-go boxes, we leave a generous tip on the table. The server has earned it, not least for the grin (or is he baring his teeth?) and good wishes he employs as he tracks our departure.
We reload into the car, remove coats again, and realize we’re missing at least one hat, we debate returning to the restaurant in search of it.
It is impossible to contemplate returning to the scene of the crime, so we decide the parents can afford a replacement hat.
As we travel home, we sing songs and talk loudly to try to keep them awake. We can’t afford to allow a car nap and therefore miss legitimate nap time at home!
We at least accomplish that and carry them into the house, remove coats, and tuck them straight in for naps.
We sneak back out for the to-go boxes and reheat them. Ahh! So glad we created happy memories for those angels now napping peacefully.
Now let’s read the version produced by AI.
Breakfast with Grandchildren
A Cherished Morning Ritual
There is something profoundly special about the mornings spent with grandchildren, particularly when it involves taking them to breakfast before school. These moments, often simple yet heartfelt, create lasting memories and strengthen bonds across generations. Whether it's a weekly tradition or an occasional treat, these breakfast outings offer a delightful blend of nourishment, connection, and joy.
The Joy of Shared Mornings
Mornings hold a unique charm, especially when shared with loved ones. The crisp air, the gentle light of dawn, and the promise of a new day set a perfect backdrop for bonding. For grandparents, taking their grandchildren to breakfast is more than just a meal; it's a chance to impart wisdom, share stories, and delight in the innocence and energy of youth.
A Moment of Togetherness
In today's fast-paced world, finding quality time to spend with family can be challenging. Breakfast before school provides a calm, unrushed opportunity to connect. It’s a time to listen to the children's dreams, school projects, and little anecdotes that might otherwise get lost in the daily hustle.
Creating Traditions
These breakfast outings can turn into cherished traditions. Whether it’s visiting a favorite diner, trying out new breakfast spots, or simply eating homemade pancakes at home, the predictability and routine provide comfort and something to look forward to. Such traditions often become the anecdotes the grandchildren will fondly recall and possibly recreate with their own children one day.
Choosing the Perfect Breakfast Spot
Selecting the right place for breakfast is crucial in making the experience enjoyable. It doesn't have to be fancy; sometimes, the best places are those with a cozy atmosphere and a friendly staff who know your usual order.
Local Diners and Cafes
Local diners and cafes often exude a warm, welcoming vibe. These establishments are usually well-versed in catering to families and can accommodate the sometimes-whimsical preferences of children. Plus, the familiar faces and casual environment can make the visit even more special.
Homemade Breakfasts
There is an undeniable charm in preparing breakfast at home. Inviting the grandchildren to help in the kitchen can be both educational and fun. Simple tasks like mixing pancake batter, slicing fruit, or setting the table make them feel involved and valued. Moreover, homemade breakfasts allow for more control over the menu, catering to any dietary preferences or restrictions.
Exploring New Places
Occasionally, venturing out to try a new breakfast place can add a sense of adventure. It’s exciting to explore different cuisines and breakfast styles, from traditional American breakfasts to international delights like French pastries or Japanese rice bowls. These culinary adventures can broaden the grandchildren's palate and introduce them to new cultures.
Balancing Time and Routine
Mornings can be a busy time, especially on school days. Balancing the leisurely pace of a breakfast outing with the need to get to school on time requires a bit of planning.
Early Start
Starting the day a little earlier can ensure there’s ample time to enjoy breakfast without feeling rushed. It also sets a positive tone for the day, allowing everyone to start with a calm and happy mindset.
Planning Ahead
A bit of advance planning can make morning outings smoother. Choosing clothes the night before, packing school bags, and having a general idea of the breakfast menu can save precious time. This preparation helps in avoiding the morning chaos and ensures a relaxed and enjoyable breakfast.
Making the Most of the Experience
The essence of these breakfast outings lies in the simple pleasures and meaningful interactions. Here are some tips to make the most of these precious moments.
Engaging Conversations
Use this time to engage in conversations that matter. Ask about their interests, friends, and school activities. Share stories from your own childhood, creating a bridge between generations. Encouraging open dialogue helps in nurturing a strong, trusting relationship.
Special Treats
Occasionally, surprising the grandchildren with a special treat can make the breakfast even more memorable. It could be their favorite pastry, an extra pancake, or a small toy. These little gestures show thoughtfulness and add an element of surprise and delight.
Capturing Memories
Don’t forget to capture these moments. A quick photo or a short video can serve as a beautiful memento of the time spent together. These memories can be cherished for years and serve as a reminder of the special bond shared.
The Long-term Impact
While these breakfast outings might seem like a small part of the day, their impact is far-reaching. They help in building a strong foundation of love, trust, and connection.
Building Strong Relationships
Regularly spending time together strengthens the relationship between grandparents and grandchildren. These interactions foster a sense of security and belonging. Grandchildren learn to appreciate the wisdom and love of their grandparents, while grandparents find joy and purpose in these connections.
Instilling Values
Through these shared moments, grandparents have the opportunity to instill important values. Conversations about respect, gratitude, and kindness naturally flow during these times. Grandchildren observe and learn from the behaviors and attitudes of their grandparents, shaping their own character in subtle yet profound ways.
Creating Lifelong Memories
The memories created during these breakfast outings are likely to be cherished for a lifetime. As the grandchildren grow older, they will look back on these times with fondness. These experiences contribute to their sense of identity and family heritage, providing a strong sense of continuity and belonging.
In conclusion, taking grandchildren to breakfast before school is more than just a meal; it’s a treasured ritual that enriches lives. It offers a unique opportunity to bond, create lasting memories, and impart invaluable life lessons. Whether it’s a routine or an occasional treat, these moments serve as a testament to the enduring love and connection that define family relationships.
END of AI’s attempt to define Breakfast with Grandchildren.
Please visit us on Amazon and give our novels a review.
From braveknightwriters.com, select a book on our website, click on it, and it will take you to Amazon, where all of our books reside in several formats.
