The Mrs.' birthday celebration has now extended itself to two weeks. Our son took the Mrs, our daughter, and me to Marrakesh Moroccan Restaurant for dinner Saturday night. You know the evening is going to be fun when you arrive and your two adult kids are standing in front of the restaurant waving crazily to random strangers.
We were seated almost immediately (our son made reservations-good boy!) and followed the server as we made our way downstairs. Down we dropped as we sat on pillows. Our daughter who hadn't been here before said, "Wow, this is just is just like eating at home! Sitting on the floor eating top ramen!" Our son smirked a little at that remark, because this was his treat. He'd visited here with some work buddies a few weeks ago and wanted to bring us back.
We ordered the Marrakesh "fancy feast" and then held our hands out so the server could pour water over them. (If you've been here before, you know the drill . If not, go to the Marrakesh web site to read about this place). The Mrs. was very pleased with her extended birthday celebration, especially when the tasty food started rolling in.
Meanwhile, apparently it's prom season, because several prom guys and gals, fancily dressed to the gills, were seated at many tables-er-I mean floors.. What?
I'm no teenage girl, but let's see if I can go through the high school hipster thought process of taking your prom date to this particular restaurant.. Your date picked that special prom dress, get her hair fixed up just so, maybe got special makeup, nails, the works. You, in your RENTED tux, take your date to a place where you have to sit on the floor in formal wear, and you're going to eat with your HANDS? (But what do I know. I wore a robin's egg blue tux to my prom (as seen on Something About Mary), and took my date to the restaurant at the Eugene Holiday Inn. . . )
Back to dinner. The food began arriving, we conversed, ate, drank, had a good time. Our daughter continually wished she had a fork, spoon, anything, while the Mrs. and our son preached to her about the importance of trying new things.
Then it was time for dessert, which came with..spoons! Our daughter squealed with delight and we said in unison, "Praise be to God-spoons!". The Mrs. and our son were engaged in conversation at the other side of the table, and I couldn't hear much of what they said. So the daughter and I engaged in a conversation that descended into not-so-proper dinner talk. We wondered-what would be the worst thing to hear after eating food with your hands, family style? Here are some of the lowlights:
"I hate to bring this up, everyone, but I have to confess. Before we ate tonight, I went to the bathroom and didn't wash my hands."
"I hate to bring this up, everyone, but I have to confess. Before we ate tonight, I gave our dog a bath and didn't wash my hands."
"I hate to bring this up, everyone, but I have to confess. Before we ate tonight, I embalmed a customer at the funeral home, and I forgot to wash my hands. "
"I hate to bring this up, everyone, but I have to confess. Before we ate tonight, I disemboweled a monkey and forgot to wash my hands".
(For the sake of protecting the innocent as well as the guilty, the identity of the specific authors of the above quotes will remain anonymous.) Yes, kind of gross at the end, eh? It was a good thing the Mrs. couldn't hear us.
As we all ate dessert, I asked the Mrs. what TV show did she NEVER miss when growing up? Her response: Medical Center. Chad Everett.....oh yeah., she sighed. Our kids asked, "Chad who?". Our son's favorite no-miss show growing up was Knight Rider. Or Dukes of Hazzard. Our daughter's favorite? Reading Rainbow! Yes! Lavar Burton! And Mathnet. What great shows. We loved Mathnet.
My favorites growing up: the trifecta of The Mod Squad (Julie!), The Brady Bunch (Marcia!), and I Dream of Jeannie (Barbara Eden!) The kids looked at me strangely when I admitted this, and the Mrs. shook her head. Even though she sighed over Chad Everett! sheesh.
Dinner completed, we rose up off the floor and headed out. The place was packed! There was even a line outside. Too bad for those folks outside- it was getting a little chilly to be standing outside in prom wear.
Thank you, #1 son, for treating the Mrs. to a nice birthday dinner. Thank you, #1 daughter, for descending into dinner talk impropriety with me. It was a blast. We don't do that often enough.
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