Dearth of Creativity

A few weeks ago, I attended a going-away luncheon for the guy who sat in the cube next to me. It was at Macaroni Grill, which I hadn't been to in years, and for good reason. The food and service weren't great, though they do let you crayon on the tablecloths. But there were maybe 15 of us, and they assigned us one waitress whose give a damn broke, telling us that doing separate checks would take a lot of time. Screw you, Flo, get it done.
So Tuesday two more guys from my office left (tis the season), and they held their going-away luncheon at...Macaroni Grill. Only this time, the organizer had set up call-ahead orders, paid some money up front, and reserved space for 20. When we got there, there were no tables. Some sort of mix-up. After fifteen minutes, they crammed us into an L-shaped configuration next to a booth of four and a booth of two, hoping that would do. And gave us one clearly overwhelmed waitress.
Leaving, I said goodbye to a Lt Col I noticed was retiring at the end of the month. Joshingly, I told him, "Well, I guess we'll be back here in a few weeks for yours, eh?"
"Yep, three weeks or so," he said in all earnestness.
*sy*

After 97 days, we have Lava-soaped our hands of the comedically sloganed "Our Craftsmanship Shows" company who builds decks and maybe sunrooms but not very well or quickly. Two gentlemen came by this morning and I explained for a third time why Crooked Sucks and Straight is Vunderbar, going so far as to have them hold up a level to show them what a half-inch difference looks like. It was fixed to a good enough standpoint and we just Want It Done Already, so we've paid our last installment and now... timpani roll ... we own a deck, patio, and sunroom. Which, little nitnoid things aside, is really a cool structure to sit in and have breakfast.

We had dinner there, too, for July 4th. I grilled up some pork loins that tasted like the tongue of an old sneaker, but Dad was kind enough to add 3 tablespoons of salt and choke it down. We then suffered through the Battle of Saratoga two houses down until after 11pm (Bailey: a little skittish; Dover: panting, shaking, freaking out; Griffin: snoring). The post-holiday firework sales are being lit off as I type. So this is why we never go anywhere on Independence Day: Dover would chew a hole through the side of the house. If not himself.

For the holiday we also bought some chairs for the living room (the project never ends!) so we don't have to sit guests on the floppy ottoman anymore. Ryan enjoyed the store, finding chairs to rock in, ugly-ass animal statuary to identify (to include a black elephant bigger than Griffin), and wide lanes to fly like an airplane in. Though we usually fly together, this was the first time I'd seen him make airplane noises and stick an arm out while walking. I told him that if he's not holding on to me, he should use two hands for the airplane. He proceeded to walk around the store with his two hands in front of him, so anyone watching and hearing the dull roar of his airplane would have thought him a baby zombie.

Ryan has met "The Wiggles." He approves. Already says "Wiggles" better than some of his other words (umbrella, cup, back, rock [noun], rock [verb], globe, upside-down, jiggy). Dances, waves his arms, big smile, mesmerized. Much easier to get the dogs fed with him otherwise occupied.
Today I taught him how to slap-wipe his hands together to get dirt off. So proud.

"Baby Zombie!" There's a movie I'd go see.