Chaos At The Luau: Well Wownded

Hubby and I had date night last night and it was a wonderful, gluttonous affair. I secured a babysitter who I think is going to work out for the long haul.

(Willem seems to like her. He was asleep in the sitters arms when we got home with his cheek smashed against her boob and his hand resting on top of it. Daddy must be proud.).

For our date, we went to one of our favorite restaurants, an Italian number called Vespaio, where we know the owners and a bartender in particular. It's a crowded little place because the food is so damn good and the wait can be one to two hours. We were willing to stick it out but were quickly shunted to a cozy table by a window with comped prosecco in hand. Our waiter, we had heard, came from the only 5-star restaurant in the city, so I wanted to find out what he thought of working at Vespaio. He explained some differences and similarities, spoke of his formal training and such and, I, feeling the effects of the bubbly so dang easily piped up and said, "You're a well wownded waiter!" As I scanned the speech portion of my brain and mentally scolded it for making me sound like Elmer Fudd, I hoped that only I had heard such babble and pretended like nothing happened. Well, of course my husband didn't miss it and when the waiter left he looked at me and said, "Well wownded waiter?" We spent most of the evening talking like ol' Elmer and laughing ourselves stupid. For my foodie friends out there, we both ordered this insane dish of osso bucco stuffed inside thick crepes with large, buttery seared scallops on the perimeter of the plate. That actually followed some baked oysters and preceded an apple bread pudding. It was a grand evening and we managed to blow a week's worth of grocery budget in one sitting. "Hello, peanut butter and jelly."

This is Willem's first day at school. His t-shirt says "Less Talk, More Rock!" Oh yeah!