Huh? What'd You Say?

We needed to grab a quick lunch after church today because Randy had a 1:45 appointment to give blood. Yep, the blood-mobile was parked right in front of the Woodland West doors in an effort either to guilt everybody into donating a pint of the red stuff or to prevent the good people who volunteered from having a change of heart and bolting before the phlebotomists could strap them to a chair.

No, I'm kidding. Giving blood is always a noble cause and I would do it myself if my diagnosis of Hepatitis A didn't preclude me from participating. (I always tell people I had the "good" hepatitis, as though any of them are preferable.)

Tyler's friend Hunter had been invited to spend the afternoon with us and I was told he liked dining at Taco Bueno so I persuaded Randy to go there. If you knew Hunter, you would have done the same thing. What a kid!

My first clue that Taco Bueno might not have been our best option came when we went to park. Randy and I were in separate vehicles because I figured he would need to leave before the rest of us were ready. Randy found a spot right out in front and, being the gentleman that he is, he whipped his car in and left me to fend for myself. (There I go, dissing my husband again!) I found a spot in the parking lot next door and five kids and I trooped over to meet Randy.

Clue #2: The line to order was very nearly out the door. Am I mistaken? We are at Taco Bueno, aren't we? Since when did it become all that??! I told the kids to go ahead and find a seat for seven, at which point Tyler scouted out the dining area and reported his findings with all the confidence of a spy checking out the Promised Land: "Mom, we can't do it! There's not enough room!" So I went to Plan B, which was to find a table for five and a table for two. But then the kids put their heads together and realized Taco Bueno isn't exactly the epitome of fine dining, and the seating plan is pretty fluid and flexible. Next thing I know, they're putting two tables together and we're ready to rock.

We got our food and discovered that fully half of our order was wrong, but because we felt like we'd already been in a skirmish and had emerged somewhat victoriously, we elected to make the best of a bad situation. In other words, the conversation went something like this: "Mom, I wanted a soft taco, not a crunchy taco!" "Umm, tough luck." I just ooze sympathy.

The noise was deafening and the crowd was dense--two factors that, when combined, do not make for a pleasant dining experience. So there we sat, shoulder to shoulder and practically nose to nose, and yet we couldn't hear a thing that the other was saying. In fact, I observed bemusedly that we probably looked fairly pathetic, our little cluster, silently chewing, occasionally trying to make conversation and then sighing in resignation when no rejoinder was forthcoming.

Randy's appointment was scheduled for 1:45 and sure enough, we still had a few bites to go before we were all ready to head for the exit. And then I noticed as Randy took his leave that a lot of other people were starting to disperse as well, and the next thing you know, we were practically the only ones left. Wow! We had a really great conversation! Tyler has been on a Jurassic Park bent recently--he got 1 & 2 from the library--and now he's trying to determine if he's "man" enough to see #3. Hunter has seen it so he shared a few key scenes with us, and it occurred to me that this conversation would have been welcome about twenty minutes earlier. Now that we could hear every word, Darcy listened as long as she could and finally said, "Can we please change the subject?!" It's hilarious--my adventurous, thrill-seeking daughter gets nauseous hearing about fake dinosaurs rampaging around, people risking (and sometimes losing) life and limb to exploit them--well, it's the life and limb part that gets her mostly. Go figure.