Don't get me wrong; we love dining out. It's just kinda funny that going out to eat is our main source of entertainment. Anywho, back to the subject at hand.
Last week we went to Interurban--which is quickly becoming a favorite, especially on Thursday nights. I'm trying so hard to eat healthy, so I was proud of myself for getting the veggie platter with chicken, while I watched Dan shamelessly scarf down the ranch burger in front of me and chug a Sam Adams. Why did I marry such a thin man, I pondered silently while sipping my free, no-calorie water. Husbands are like handbags, ladies. The larger they are, the smaller you look. Or, at least that's always been my theory. Now you know why my purses are the size of a small child.
The veggies were actually very good and very plentiful, so I needed a take-home box. Getting up from the table, Dan grabs an ink pen and writes on my take-home box.
That brat! I immediately whip out my phone, take a picture and text it to Mel and Liz, my co-workers. You see, I was called Lucy several times in e-mails at work, and I despise the name. No offense to anyone named Lucy, it's just annoying that people can't "close the loop" and get my name correct. So, they jokingly say that if I'm called Lucy, I turn into Lucy-fer because it irks me so.
Fast-forward to this last week. I was NOT in the mood to cook. After all, I had cooked ONE meal the entire week and absolutely refused to be in the kitchen. Not really; it's just that one meal lasted us for three meals and I was just being lazy. There were storms moving in and it would have been terrible if we lost power while cooking. I think that sends radioactive chemicals into your food if the electricity even so much as blinks while you're preparing food. I think I read that somewhere, probably on the Internet.
Anyway, we ran down the street to a cute little 50s diner we've been wanting to try for a while. The sign out front said they now have Indian tacos, so I was sold...then I forgot to order an Indian taco. The food was really good. We both got burgers (I cheated) and Ellie had fun staring at all the other patrons. She's a very good people watcher. We actually had to turn her around so she could stare at one point.
She waved at the waitress taking our order. She loved her scrambled egg. (Oh, yeah. I forgot to mention that they serve breakfast all day. A restaurant after my own heart!) She ate some burger as long as it was dipped in ketchup. And she chowed down on a french fry.
She met Elvis and waved at him, too. Then she patted his arm.
She was a mess when we left! I told Dan she looked like a little redneck baby. She had on pants that were way too big (back-up pants from daycare), she was filthy from playing outside, she had food in her hair and her face was stained with ketchup and dirt. Nice!
What's going on Friday night, you ask? An official date night with dinner...and a movie! It's been at least a year since we've seen a movie. I think the last was Eat, Love and Pray...and I don't think I'd call that a movie. Blah!
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