Dear Kid,
Listen my child and you shall hear
Of a meal we ate when you weren’t here.
I thought of writing the whole blog in poem, but by the third line of my attempt I’d gone from Paul Revere’s Ride to A Visit From St. Nicholas (Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!) and the scan had gotten hopelessly mixed up in my head. Back to narrative.
Last night we went out to dinner. Turns out you need to make reservations more than 20 minutes in advance if you want to take 6 people to dinner on a Saturday night at a trendy spot. We went to Bonefish Grill (which I like very much but I’d been to before and I’d hoped to try one of the new restaurants in town. Apparently so did a lot of other people.).
Puppy: You didn’t take me
Me: You had dinner at home
Puppy: I could have eaten if you’d taken me
Me: You were napping
Puppy: Only after you left me at home!
Me: (I am not going to mention they don’t let dogs in. I am not going to mention they don’t let dogs in. I am not going) Want to play with a toy?
Puppy: I love toys!
I had planned to take photos of dinner and share our culinary experience that way. It was a perfect plan except for the part about me remembering to take photos which I forgot. Completely.
So imagine, if you will, hummus and potsticker appetizers, delightful salads (for some of us), warm bread, delicious entrees, and sparkling conversation. I wouldn’t have known how to photograph the sparkling conversation anyway.
Puppy: Do I have sparkling conversation?
Me: ummm…
Puppy: Scratch me
Me: Yup, that sparkles
Puppy: See? You should have taken me
All in all, a lovely evening.
Puppy: Except for the part about me not going.
Me: I’m sorry to disappoint you, but it was still a lovely evening.
Puppy: Except for the part about me not going.
Except (according to some) for the part about Booker not going.
Hope your day is sparkling.
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