And He Don't Care
Had our nephew in for the night again yesterday before he headed back to the left coast, and I thought he might enjoy going to the new Japanese Steak House near us for dinner, a fantastic place called TJSH, for Toyota Jujitsu Samurai HareKare. I believe.
His grandparents were wary; apparently the lad is a bit of a picky eater. Indeed, when we walked in, the 6-yr old asked, "Do you think they have hot dogs?"
But he tried nearly everything except the shrimp (more for me!) and enjoyed most of the cooking/show -- the guy (unfortunately compared to a teenage mutant ninja turtle by grandpa) pulled out all the stops, spinning eggs on his spatula, catching them in his hat, flipping food into customers' mouths, the Onion Volcano: everything and, as Ryan would say it, "moooRRRRe?!"
Unfortunately, Ryan was so jazzed from the night (and/or the gelato for dessert), he couldn't fall asleep until after 10:15. Then Bailey had to go out -- we usually put them to bed after their final feed and 'deffy' so they're not loud and complicating littleboybedtime, and they're good till morning, but Bailey seemed awful adamant, so I let her out. But then again at midnight she started whining, unusual, so I let just her out (even though Griffin was keen to explore again). Hard to see the results in the dark, but she was definitely going through the motions of needing to go number ruff ruff, so you can't blame the old girl.
Except when she had to go out again at 3:15. That's just silly.
I decided to leave them outside this time, so Bailey could put herself to bed in her downstairs room through the doggie door and let herDAMNself out when she needed it, but at 3:42 she started her howl/bark thing at a leaf blowing in the back yard (or whatever), so I stumbled downstairs to get her back in. By then, the in-laws were up for the early drive to the airport, so I got a chance to wave another tired-ass goodbye.
Still up with the crack of birds this morning, though, to take advantage of just splendid summer weather and drive up the road to Mount Vernon for the first time in twenty years. Ryan doesn't know the first president from his bippy, but enjoyed pointing out the ovals in the mansion's ceiling, looking at the river, checking out the horses, geese, sheep, and pigs on the property, and trying his hand on the corn cracker in the plantation mock-up. Hell, I even learned something -- Washington's nephew's son fought on the confederate side in the Civil War.
While Mimaa's away, Grandpa's playing at our house the rest of the week, graciously offering his craftsman skills to help finish a ton of projects that just wouldn't dew on my honey list.
His grandparents were wary; apparently the lad is a bit of a picky eater. Indeed, when we walked in, the 6-yr old asked, "Do you think they have hot dogs?"
But he tried nearly everything except the shrimp (more for me!) and enjoyed most of the cooking/show -- the guy (unfortunately compared to a teenage mutant ninja turtle by grandpa) pulled out all the stops, spinning eggs on his spatula, catching them in his hat, flipping food into customers' mouths, the Onion Volcano: everything and, as Ryan would say it, "moooRRRRe?!"
Unfortunately, Ryan was so jazzed from the night (and/or the gelato for dessert), he couldn't fall asleep until after 10:15. Then Bailey had to go out -- we usually put them to bed after their final feed and 'deffy' so they're not loud and complicating littleboybedtime, and they're good till morning, but Bailey seemed awful adamant, so I let her out. But then again at midnight she started whining, unusual, so I let just her out (even though Griffin was keen to explore again). Hard to see the results in the dark, but she was definitely going through the motions of needing to go number ruff ruff, so you can't blame the old girl.
Except when she had to go out again at 3:15. That's just silly.
I decided to leave them outside this time, so Bailey could put herself to bed in her downstairs room through the doggie door and let herDAMNself out when she needed it, but at 3:42 she started her howl/bark thing at a leaf blowing in the back yard (or whatever), so I stumbled downstairs to get her back in. By then, the in-laws were up for the early drive to the airport, so I got a chance to wave another tired-ass goodbye.
Still up with the crack of birds this morning, though, to take advantage of just splendid summer weather and drive up the road to Mount Vernon for the first time in twenty years. Ryan doesn't know the first president from his bippy, but enjoyed pointing out the ovals in the mansion's ceiling, looking at the river, checking out the horses, geese, sheep, and pigs on the property, and trying his hand on the corn cracker in the plantation mock-up. Hell, I even learned something -- Washington's nephew's son fought on the confederate side in the Civil War.
While Mimaa's away, Grandpa's playing at our house the rest of the week, graciously offering his craftsman skills to help finish a ton of projects that just wouldn't dew on my honey list.
posted by Dan at 9:02 PM
1 Comments:
I wouldn't recommend referring to either of your in-laws as "tired asses."
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