Anywho, they now comment on each other's posts and chat back and forth and now they're both doing Taciturn Tuesdays, which of course makes me just blitheringly jealous because I'm petty like that. They should, of course, both be commenting nonstop on my blog and loving me best.
Sometimes I can be very small minded.
Moving on, and hoping that perhaps by joining them in Taciturn Tuesday this time around I can feel like part of the club, here's my little contribution to the day (Though yeah, I'm not so good at the Taciturn part. Sue me. I'm wordy.):
Today I picked the boys up from daycare and we went to their Grandma's (my m-i-l) to spend some time together. We were going to go to a playground, but first, because we were hungry, we went to Big Boy's. We're crazy adventurous like that.
It should be noted that normally The Widget operates much like a vacuum cleaner with any foodstuffs placed before, behind, beside, and above him, including the clogging and resultant need for icky clearing-out-of-hose/mouth that comes from stuffing too much into a small space. DramaBoy, on the other hand, will happily munch on snacks all day but tends to turn up his nose at most "real" food. Dinner is a time for him to live up to his nickname.
Turns out that the last time he went to BB with Grandma, he had the spaghetti. And the Hot Fudge Ice Cream Brownie dessert. And thus it was with much emphasis that he informed the waitress (a former student of mine, by the way) that he was going to have the basketti! The kid's meal basketti! And The Widget will have the kid's meal chicken! At the top of his lungs.
Hey, she got the order right.
Little did I know that I should have been feeding this boy spaghetti all along. He scarfed it down, getting only a mild amount of marinara sauce all over his mouth/hands/shirt/jeans. And then he shared the HFICB dessert with his Grandma. Well, I was required to eat the four (4!) maraschino cherries off the top because, as he reminded us, Mama, you have to eat the cherries because they're red and they have lots of red food dye and I can't eat the red food dye because it will make me itchy!
The sacrifices I make for my children.
(The Widget and I ate plain brownies because he's lactose intolerant and I'm picky about ice cream. When I say he ate a brownie, I mean he got huge amounts of sticky chocolate crumbs all over himself/his seat/the table/the floor and required an emergency visit to the restroom. If I'd had any cash on me I would have left about $10 as an apology to the poor busboy who had to clean up after us.)
Oh, the taciturn part? Here you go. Grandma ate about six bites of the MONSTROUS dessert the waitress brought (I think she was charmed by DramaBoy and went a little overboard), and DramaBoy ate...
and ate....
and posed for a silly picture on my request...
and ate some more...
and posed for another silly picture on his demand...
and left this as the (relatively) tiny remainder of what he had begun. Note the sneaking finger to grab a last bit of whipped cream.
Spaghetti, ice cream, and brownies. That totally counts as a balanced meal, right?
