Last weekend Brian's mom offered begged to take the kids overnight. When we tried to turn her down after a stretch of sleepless nights from Miss Lucy she wouldn't listen.
"I. DON'T. CARE." She kept repeating to Brian over and over, citing many grandmotherly reasons why we were wrong and she was right.
So the kids went and Brian and I had a Saturday afternoon and evening to ourselves. And while that was extremely kind of her, that's not my Pay It Forward Friday story. It's just the lead-up.
During that Saturday afternoon we drank coffee at a local coffee shop. The good, strong kind. We dilly-dallied at Pier 1 imagining furniture in certain rooms of our house and wondering if we should buy any. We went to a lighting store and dreamed of putting a gigantic, old chandelier in our dining room.
Then we came home and showered and went to church. We held hands and sang the hymns and listened intently to the homily.
Then we got down to business and started mapping out our bar/restaurant route for the night. First stop: Moscow on the Hill, known for their incredible vodka selection.
Brian ordered a single shot of some posh selection, served with a mini pickle on a toothpick. But I like to get my money's worth so I ordered a cherry gimlet, one of the bar's specialties.
This drink is amazing. It's perfect for those of us who can't handle a straight vodka martini but also for those of us who don't appreciate their cocktails tasting like a bag of Skittles.
We sipped and chatted. We had all the time in the world. It was grand. Until...until...it all came crashing down. Literally.
My legs were crossed and I was angled toward Brian as we sat, deep in conversation, on the barstools. Every once in a while I gingerly picked up my drink and took a sip. About a third of the way through my drink, the lowball slipped out of my hand and spilled all over the wood bar. I'm sure I turned three shades of red while we made all the obvious jokes about me needing to be cut off already. Thankfully nothing hit my white skirt. But when all my embarrassment was gone I was just sad that I wasted such an amazing drink on this kid-less night.
But I guilt myself too much. The bartender was busy mixing drinks for other patrons as the dinner rush approached so I thought, "That's it. Let's just get our check and go."
But in the midst of his busy-ness, he turned over his shoulder and slid me a brand new cherry gimlet. He looked at me and winked. Oh those Russians! They get such a bum rap.
So that's how I got two drinks for the price of one even if the first one was slightly wasted. Ha! No pun intended.
OK, you're turn!
P.S. I've had many questions about this whole "Friday" business. Don't assume that you have to post/comment only on Friday. Any day of the week is just fine!
"I. DON'T. CARE." She kept repeating to Brian over and over, citing many grandmotherly reasons why we were wrong and she was right.
So the kids went and Brian and I had a Saturday afternoon and evening to ourselves. And while that was extremely kind of her, that's not my Pay It Forward Friday story. It's just the lead-up.
During that Saturday afternoon we drank coffee at a local coffee shop. The good, strong kind. We dilly-dallied at Pier 1 imagining furniture in certain rooms of our house and wondering if we should buy any. We went to a lighting store and dreamed of putting a gigantic, old chandelier in our dining room.
Then we came home and showered and went to church. We held hands and sang the hymns and listened intently to the homily.
Then we got down to business and started mapping out our bar/restaurant route for the night. First stop: Moscow on the Hill, known for their incredible vodka selection.
Brian ordered a single shot of some posh selection, served with a mini pickle on a toothpick. But I like to get my money's worth so I ordered a cherry gimlet, one of the bar's specialties.
This drink is amazing. It's perfect for those of us who can't handle a straight vodka martini but also for those of us who don't appreciate their cocktails tasting like a bag of Skittles.
We sipped and chatted. We had all the time in the world. It was grand. Until...until...it all came crashing down. Literally.
My legs were crossed and I was angled toward Brian as we sat, deep in conversation, on the barstools. Every once in a while I gingerly picked up my drink and took a sip. About a third of the way through my drink, the lowball slipped out of my hand and spilled all over the wood bar. I'm sure I turned three shades of red while we made all the obvious jokes about me needing to be cut off already. Thankfully nothing hit my white skirt. But when all my embarrassment was gone I was just sad that I wasted such an amazing drink on this kid-less night.
But I guilt myself too much. The bartender was busy mixing drinks for other patrons as the dinner rush approached so I thought, "That's it. Let's just get our check and go."
But in the midst of his busy-ness, he turned over his shoulder and slid me a brand new cherry gimlet. He looked at me and winked. Oh those Russians! They get such a bum rap.
So that's how I got two drinks for the price of one even if the first one was slightly wasted. Ha! No pun intended.
OK, you're turn!
P.S. I've had many questions about this whole "Friday" business. Don't assume that you have to post/comment only on Friday. Any day of the week is just fine!
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