We went to Rocky's across the river tonight to sit on the lovely patio with sweeping vistas of the city skyline and enjoy moderately-priced Italian fare, yet no one (but me) was happy. I say who really cares if the dinner takes forever and the pasta tastes like something I could have made with a pot of boiling water and a jar of Ragu--what's not to love about a long dinner on a patio with your fave people (assuming that they are each other's favorite people)? I had fun, and here is a breakdown of the evening:
Number of minutes Mr. Twinkle, Twinklette, and I waited for the rest of the party, which was delayed until SIL's baby finished napping and suckling her mother's teat (pardon my Chaucer): 45. Not that I minded. It was the best part of the evening.
Number of minutes MIL would have tolerated me to hold up everyone's meal back when my baby was new: -5.
Number of complaints about the wait for and the quality of the food: at least 4 per person, totaling an average of 20 complaints between them. And that's conservative.
Times my MIL b*tched about how long the plane ride is to Aruba (where we're taking her this summer as a retirement gift!): 1. And it was 1 too many.
Number of complaints from GMIL about the prices at local men's clothing store Rhodes, where the men's undershirts are reportedly exorbitant: 2.
Number of $3 Build-A-Bear cell phones gifted to Twinklette, whose tantrum has long-since ended: 0.
Times my MIL said, "This baby wants her mommy" about my SIL's kid: 1, which is 1 more than I've ever heard her say about Twinklette.
Number of glasses of wine I'm drinking on my porch while I wait for them all (and a few extras) to arrive at my house to eat dessert from the Pie Kitchen (which I was informed about at 7:30 this evening...not that it matters since I keep an immaculate home): 1, maybe 2 if I can squeeze a fast one in.
Bottoms up!
No comments:
Post a Comment