Is this normal? Am I normal?

Here's how crazy my writing process can be:

I open the next chapter of my manuscript in a restaurant.  Protagonist, father and son sitting at a table, waiting for their pancakes.

Why are we here? I ask myself.

I honestly don't know.

Father and son begin a conversation.  Protagonist listens. 

Still not sure why we're here.  Can't just be here for this conversation.  This could have happened anywhere.  It's not even that interesting.

Waitress arrives with food.  Maybe this is it. ...