10.00 glass of coke

Greetings to one and all, small delay in blog production as spent the weekend helping my sisters move to various locals.  If there is one thing I have learned from moving, the next time we move (which will be upon moving into the house we hope to build/die in), it is to move light.  Hopefully we can fit in the 4 plastic dora chairs and 2 cardboard boxes that will become our dining area. 

I like to think that most of the time Erin and I do a good job in fooling others into thinking we are decent parents.  The raised voices you hear are not that of a father about to pull his hair out at the 2,300 oh wait 2,301st attempt of getting my 3yr old in bed, but instead me leading them in a dramatic reading of Robert Frost poetry....I went to turn the grass once after one Who mowed it in the dew before the sun...good job girls!  However I think for the most part it seems we get by day by day.  So many more victories than defeats.  Except for tonight...

Erin calls me and asks if I wanted to go to Red Lobster, or as we call it when we are being romantic "RL"  I have a mental checklist of things I go over to prepare for non drive-thru dining.  Feel free to use this for your dining needs.

1. Is it resonably priced (can I get away with 4 kids eating from 2 plates of random food)
2. Is the waiter young or old (old waiter might not come back, young waiter might come back hoping for tip)
3. How close are we to each other (open floor plan with table and chairs means collin's goona bolt)
4. Bathrooms near (no girls the lady is not going to come in the stall with you)
5. Is there music playing?  (It might drown them out, if the chocolate milk stops flowing)

I came there tonight with high hopes, well maybe minimum hopes that I would get the one item I sought endless shrimp.  Some hope for glory, cash or fame I simply want shrimp.  Erin arrived with my chioldrens and as always they were happy to see me and showered me with love, then fought over who was to sit by me.  Serena felt it was her turn and began the pre-whining stage.  Its kinda like the levels of terror alerts.

1. Pouty limp followed by low moaning-Erin or I warn her to get back on track or I try to defuse the situation by asking for the shrimp menu.
2. Tears and whining Erin or I remove her from the room and go speak with her about her behavior, not before asking for the shrimp menu (Maybe I can smell it)
3. Stomping of feet followed by load moaning of unfairness and crying.  This is the final stage...everyone goes in different directions, I begin to look at other tables for their shrimp.  My children heading twords the door thanking Serena for our dining experience.  Erin overhears a parent say "Is she even wearing shoes"  No maam I ate those in lieu of shrimp.  5.00 for drinks and 5 dollar tip for the patient man later we are home.

Tomorrow is a new day?!?? Right?!??   Hug your kids....buy frozen shrimp