Thursday, October 8, 2009

why my husband doesn't take me out...

Last night, we went out to our favorite "guacamole" restaurant (Translation:  Mexican Food Restaurant).  We were seated in a quiet, dark corner (must be the multiple under 2 baby entourage) - far, far away from other patrons.  In fact, it may have been a special room for "families" ONLY.   Or for our family, ONLY.

The waiter proceeded to offer the specials.  Offer chips.  Salsa.  Iced water. 

The waiter returns to take our order. 

Fajitas for one daddy.  Small fajitas for one child.  Enchiladas for another child.  Rice and beans for the last child.  My turn:

"I'd like the personal-size, thin crust, vegetarian pizza -- cut into six slices instead of four.  Oh, with extra olives and cheese." 

Daddy buries his head in the remaining large menu.

Waiter stammers.  Waiter hesitates.  Waiter's speechless. 

I never got my pizza!

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