At least according to my child.
So each year Mr. T and I participate in Restaurant Week by going to Ruth's Chris for dinner. (It's the only time we can afford it, and even still we have to eat only bread and water for the next week to make up for it.) Anyhow, we confidently left the fed, clean, and prepped for bed Sweet 'P' with the babysitter, and headed off into the night. Everything was going well, all of the party had arrived, and we set off to eat until our arteries couldn't handle anymore of the goodness that was once Ruth's Chris. (Sidenote: Can anyone explain to me the title of this restaurant? I mean who is Ruth, and Chris? Did Ruth own Chris? Was Ruth Chris' mom? Did he ruin her date night dinner too?)
So, about 30 minutes and 3 glasses of sweet tea into dinner, I decided to check in on the posse back at home. Apparently the 'child' had decided to have the melt down of melt down's about 10 minutes after we walked out of the door. I couldn't even hear what the babysitter was saying on the phone. No joke, it sounded like there was a half starved monkey ripping it's fur out in the background.
After about an hour of this going on, I finally decided to head home without the hubs, and without even tasting my steak dinner which was on a platter ready to be set before me and be slowly devoured by a half starved monkey's mom. I can't say that I didn't break any laws on my way home, but upon arriving, and picking up the wild child, the cries immediately ceased, and on her own popped in her paci, and promptly went to sleep. Seriously?!
But my hero arrived shortly after with my meal in a lovely to-go bag, and I happily enjoyed my not so hot dinner.
How was your night?
PS. Here is a snippet of the calm Sweet 'P' taking a bath. Gotta love those rolls!
