This morning my six-year-old son looked at me with big innocent blue eyes, a box of cereal in his hand, and with a voice as sweet as honey, asked me, “Mom, can you serve me at the table?”
I was a little surprised to say the least. Not because he wanted me to bring him his breakfast at the table. This isn’t an out of the ordinary event at our house. It wasn’t even the cordial manner in which he asked, although that did catch me a little off guard.
I think it was his choice of words: “Serve me.” Continue reading
This past weekend was filled with new experiences. I guess you could say it was a weekend of “firsts.”
For example, it was my first time eating at Qdoba Mexican Grill. Move over Chipotle, you were just replaced. (Cue Homer Simpson drool face.) I don’t know if it was the perfectly seasoned chicken or the three cheese queso sauce, but I’m pretty sure I had the honor of consuming one of the best burritos on the planet. Lest you think I’m exaggerating, even my oldest son, who is a notoriously picky eater and swears up and down that he doesn’t like tortillas, inhaled his chicken and cheese quesadilla and then announced that this was his new favorite restaurant. Needless to say, “We’ll be back.” Continue reading