I have too many meetings this week. And I'm not even talking about work. I came home Monday and sulked to Leah so much that we decided to go out for a nice dinner with the boys. After hemming and hawing about where to go, the restaurant we chose was closed. Of course, we didn't know that until we arrived at the doorstep. So it was off to Applebee's we went.
Actually, Applebee's was pretty darn good. They have a great WeightWatchers menu and also a really good kids menu. It was clean and the service was friendly and prompt. They did screw up the order, though Aidan did not get too upset about it.
He got french fries instead of broccoli.
As he happily munched away on his fries (Daddy, my chicken is too hot - yeah, right), we all looked on, green with jealousy. When it just became too much to bear, Noah asked for some fries.
"Aidan, give you brother some french fries."
"Ok, he can have four."
A couple minutes later, it became too much for me as well. I reached over into Aidan's basket to grab a fry. He pushed my hand away.
"Aidan, may I have a french fry?"
"Aidan, I would like you to share your fries with me."
At this point Leah's mouth dropped to the table.
"Aidan, give me a fry."
"Aidan, I'm paying for those fries, and I will have one."
[pause . . .]
"Okay, Daddy. But no ketchup."