My son has already turned into an angst-filled teenager. I don't know when it happened, but the other day, he came up to me and I said, "Hey babe - can I get a big wet sloppy one?" He sighed deeply and said, "Yeah, okay," the dutifully kissed me and walked away to play with his trains. When did I become boring?
Speaking of which, I went on a girl's night out this evening with a friend from my former employer. It was anything but boring, but... Remember when girl's night out meant bottles of beer or cheap wine and mixed drinks and a fat, juicy burger? Or maybe it was a pile of brownies and a gallon of ice cream devoured during a three-hour-long gossip session. Well, I'd been saving up all day for this girl's night out, thinking that I'd at least get something deep fried. Heck, I've lost 6 pounds over a two-week period, I figured that some tempura wouldn't hurt me that much as long as I'd budgeted for it.
So, I get to Wasabi Clayton, and we order. I glance over the menu and agree - let's get something to split. Something big. Oh, yeah - something bad. And then, it happened. We ordered. Once we had, I found myself thinking, when did indulgence turn into edamame, salad, california rolls and sashimi with the odd squid tentacle on the side, washed down with Diet Coke and water? Even stranger, it tasted really, really good and I didn't miss the fat, juicy burger. Well, not too much anyway.
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