Well, I wasn't planning to blog again today, but something happened this evening that just screamed for a late night addition. We'll just call it The Incident for now, and it went a little something like this...
The Hubs and I went out to eat this evening, and we had our grandson Dylan along. It started off just like any other Family Friday at Friendly's (a local eatery). You know, exchanging unwitty banter about our day, deliberating over the menu that we should have memorized after eating there at least 75 times, and listening to our grandson sing the lyrics of his favorite new song, "I'm squishing up my baby bumble bee," the perfect song to accompany any meal. Food arrives, and we begin to eat. Dylan is having his usual, popcorn chicken. I'm having grilled chicken. And the Hubs, the oddball, is having Fish N Chips (at least it wasn't Smelt this time). Nothing too out of the ordinary at this point. Chew and chat, chew and chat...ask Dylan a third time to stop singing that song until we're done eating.
Then, a little more than half way through the meal, the Hubs somehow manages to drop an entire piece of his heavily fried fish onto the floor. And, being the considerate guy that he is, naturally he picks up the fish. After all, he doesn't want someone to step on it, so he does the right thing and picks it up. And then, with little or no thought at all, he put the tainted fish off to the side of his plate...far away from the remaining fish and fries, so that he'll remember why it's there...and not...eat it. Great, smart move, my man. I would have put it on the table myself, but hey, whatever works for him. So we continue on to finish diner, chew and chat, chew and chat, and I listen to Dylan talk about how great ranch dressing is on french fries.
And then it happened. I turned back to the Hubs and glanced down at his plate. The tainted fish...has disappeared. WTH? It was just there a second ago--I saw it with my own eyes! But after a cursory look around the table, that freaking fish is nowhere to be found. Where the heck is it?
Yes folks, he...ate...it. {insert gagging noise here}
"OMG," I half screamed. "You did NOT just eat that fish, did you?" And he pauses, glances at the plate, and kind of shrugs, as I wait for the look of horror on my own face to be mirrored on his. But it never happens. He's slightly baffled by his obvious, um, mistake, but there's no evidence of disgust at all, after having eaten something to which the 5-second rule can in no way apply, considering we're in a public place--with a carpeted floor no less! All he can manage is, "I guess I did." Allrighty then.
Dinner for 3 at Friendly's: $34.95
Tip for the waitress: $5.00
Opportunity to tell the Hubs not to kiss me for a week, until I'm relatively sure that the Fish N Chips Incident isn't going to come up to haunt us: priceless.