The Munk 'n Duck

That couple sure was smart back in 2001, picking a wedding date around a major U.S. holiday. We had selected the 25th based on my school schedule, and the consideration that more people would come if they had an extra day of travel. Now, it's worked out so that the majority of May 25ths fall on a three-day weekend, or, in the case of DTRA-ops, a four-day weekend.
Which just gave me another day to do something celebratorily togetherous.
The Boivins have invited us over on the 25th for barbecued fruit salad (and the restaurant I wanted to take Ainsley to isn't open on Sundays anyway), so festivities started today, with typical subterfuge. I took Ryan and my car to the shop to get its annual inspection, dressing him in a plain blue shirt, but sneaking his Redskins jersey into the car for a quick change at the dealership before Ainsley picked us up. "Where going, Mommy?" "I honestly don't know, Ryan."
We goinged up the road to the Springfield Metro station to take the "train" up to King's Street (sixth anniversary gift is "iron", so it was appropriate to ride the iron horse). It was Erin's first ride in one, and Ryan's first since he'd been destrollerized and upwardly mobile. Ryan and I were exploring the parked car until the doors bing-bonged, so I held his hand to take him back to A&E (<--har! What a great abbreviation!), when Ryan got excited and slipped from my grip to run back there -- just as the metrocar started, causing Ryan to run uncontrollably towards the rear door...until Ainsley pulled a hand out from under her nursing daughter and caught him three inches before facesmack. Good hands, Mommy! Across the street from the King's Street station is Joe Theisman's restaurant, a nice sports bar/lunch place, which I thought would be a perfect setting for unveiling our Anniversary gift (click to enlarge):

Yes, that's right. We're going to the Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony for Darrel Green and Art Monk. Gift of Iron -- Celebrate Greats from the Gridiron. You see.
Ainsley's parents were here when we got back, ready to take on two-kid responsibilities so A&I could join my father at The Tower Club for an elegant six-course meal -- he'd been awarded a night out by his boss for his good work, and insisted (or his secretary had insisted) that he take his son and daughter-in-law. Coat & tie place, only twenty or so tables, up on the 17th floor of a 17-storey building in McLean, more servers than guests replacing every utensil and ounce of water drunk, choreographed food delivery, Kenny the Jazz guitarist, etc..
Started with complimentary sparkling white wine (after a cocktail in the bar), then I had some pinkie-sized beef tenderloin aperitif, a Crabcake Solo over tortilla straws, a caesar salad made table-side, a cobalt blue shot glass of peach sorbet, sea bass over lobster cous-cous, and flaming bananas foster. And then they bring us an entire chocolate cake for our anniversary (we took it to go). Opulent. This after last year's night at the Inn in Little Washington, we're sure setting ourselves up for failure in future years (or bankruptcy).
We're thinking McDonald's next year. Unfortunately, Erin had screamed her tiny head off for the better part of our absence (making Grandpa offer to next babysit when she turns 21), though after having a bowel movement that was felt as far as away as Chicago, she seemed to feel a bit better, and Mimaa was able to get her down a few minutes before we got home. I was up with Ryan until after 10:15, though, as we continue to hope this phase ends any ol' day now.
My honesty sometimes gets the better of me -- I told him I had to go change out of my suit before hanging out with him, but I'd be right back. After I'd slipped into comfortablemoresomething, I peeked my head in and he was quiet and still (though not asleep). So do I leave him be and hope he falls asleep? Or do I go in and keep my word?
Didn't want my son thinking his Dad was a liar.
Hence the 10:15.
Giving us the opportunity to start learning how to read the clock, at least...