Last night was date night.
The girls are with Nana and Papa for the week. This means Deb and I can walk outside of the house for extended periods of time without worrying about small people crushing themselves beneath heavy pieces of furniture.
With that kind of freedom we decided to find a forbidden place. We wound up at a tapas restaurant where there wasn't a single thing on the menu that small girls would allow within two feet of themselves; let alone eat. The food wasn't spectacular, but the company was (and the sangria was sweet and refreshing).
The past few days have been full. We met Anika Joy on Saturday. Anna and Shannon have a sweet, beautiful baby girl.
Allie and Julia not only got to know their new cousin but got another dose of hotel living in the big city. They're becoming quite jaded with the experience. As soon as they got into the room they phoned the front desk and arranged for a massage. They tipped the guy with Spongebob money.
I don't really have a lot to say about the girls brushing their teeth at the hotel, but I can't get the text to line up with these damn photos so I need a little filler.
There, that should be enough.
Nope, not quite. . . How was your day? Good! Plans for the weekend? Oooo. That sounds like fun. Dangerous. Possibly illegal. . . but fun.
Now here's more blog:
On Sunday Deb and I spent six hours in Ikea. It looks like a lot of crap in the car. But considering the fact that for what we would have spent for a new kitchen table at a local furniture store we got the table, four chairs, two butcher block work stations, a night stand for Julia and a crapload of other items for around the house.
Needless to say our first Ikea experience was intense. There will be no need to return for a very long time -- unless it's just to mess around with the cart escalator.
I could have stared at this thing for hours. Okay, that's not true. I would have been happier staring at all the ladies I noticed who had breast augmentation. I wouldn't have stared. I'm not quite as lecherous as that. But there did seem to be a convention in town that day. And anyway, I had the cart escalator and who would choose a parade of silcone enhanced breasts over that?
We'd never seen one of these and I kept thinking our cart was going to spill its contents or the entire thing would be launched out of the gates at the end of its ride.
Here's a little more blog filler: Did you know that the average human sweats about a pint of liquid from his/her feet each day? I was always amazed by that statistic. I suppose if the average foot has about 250,000 glands you're going to get some moisture, but a pint seems like a lot. Particularly when you consider the milk they serve in schools comes in pints. I can't imagine drinking a pint of sweat.
By the way, blogging while on the toilet isn't really that great. But that's another lofty goal I can mark off on the list. Now I must innovate. I hadn't planned on a permanent Web cam for the stool downstairs, but Jim planted the seed. I'm pretty sure most of the action would involve me. That means we'd probably have to name it Anaconda Cam or at least Kielbasa Cam or something equally appropriate.
This evening Deb is working late. I should be outside in the heat mowing the lawn, but my ass is numb and I don't know if I'll fully recover in time to get outside and take care of the yard.