Random Funnies

David and I bravely attempted, and somewhat successfully accomplished, taking the kids out to eat with us the other night at Outback. I could write a whole entire post about that trip, but I will just highlight one of the amusing parts. (A lady at the table next to us was celebrating a birthday so Drue kept looking over her way saying, "Cake, cake. I want some cake".) We always get the girls some sort of chicken finger basket to share when we go out. Drue gobbles her entire meal up and starts grabbing food from David's plate also. Reese gobbles up her fries, but needs a little coaxing to eat her chicken. She doesn't like the fried part so she peels it off and just eats the chicken. And she only likes plain fries, if they have so much as a speck of cheese on them, she won't eat them. So, it never really looks like she ate much in the end because there is so much left on her plate. After we all got finished I asked Reese, "Did you get enough to eat? Did your tummy get full?", to which she replied, "Yep. But not the dessert part."

Many times during lunch it's just Drue and I at the table eating because Reese has inhaled her standard spoonful of peanut butter and is off on her merry way. Today, Drue and I sat down to enjoy some corndogs. I recently started putting a splat of ketchup on her plate to go with it. She hasn't quite gotten down the idea of dipping her corndog into the ketchup. She just eats the ketchup by itself with her fork. Something Drue does at every mealtime is inspect everyone else's plate to make sure she isn't missing out on anything, and that we all have the same food on our plates. Today she looked over at the mustard splat on my plate and said, "Some of dat" (meaning "Can I have some of that). "It's just mustard, honey, " I explained. She looked up at me forlornly and said, " Where's my lellow?" (meaning "Where's my yellow?"). She quickly got a splat of "lellow" all her own......

The other day I had a harried visit to the doctors' office with all the kids in tow for Drue's 2 year checkup, which included her getting a shot I wasn't prepared for, a fussy Tate who wanted out of his stroller, and Reese who was whining the entire time because she wasn't getting a checkup. (Incidentally, we found out that Drue is on track to grow to be 5'11"!!). So, after our exhausting ordeal, I wearily shuffled them all back to the van to head home. We have automatic doors that you can either open with a remote, or simply tug on the handle, and they easily slide open. So I tugged. Nothing happened. So I tugged again. Nothing. I thought the handle felt a little strange so I finally looked up and discovered that our van was in the next parking spot over! Thank goodness, the van I was inadevertently trying to break into was unoccupied at the time. Reese takes in and remembers every little thing. So of course she wanted to know why we couldn't get the door open and why we were walking away. I sheepishly explained to her that it wasn't our van. Now, everytime we finish an errand and we head back out to the parking lot, she says, "Mommy, is this our van?" "Yes, dear, it's our van." "Are you sure it's our van?". Argh.