I Love Eating Out

There is something about someone else cooking for you. I love it. I guess I love my husband more, seeing as I married a man who can't cook.

Alan has tried to cook. And while his food (grilled cheese or omelets, mostly) is certainly welcome on a lazy day, it is nothing special. He can't grill without under or overcooking the food, forgets to stir food on the stove, and thinks that more seasoning is ALWAYS better, even when it's clearly not. *cough*fennel seeds*cough*

I cook reasonably well, but I don't enjoy cooking.

I enjoy eating.

So we eat out. A lot. My children are generally very well-behaved at restaurants. They've been taken to eating places from a young age and know the rules. Even Loki can sit quietly through a meal, smiling at the other diners. I'm not a fast food person, so this often meals actual sit down restaurants. It's almost embarrassing how well-behaved they are in restaurants, since they are too young to act that well in public. (And let's just say that they have figured out that church is NOT a restaurant, so the misbehave accordingly.)

I see other parents struggle. Their kids scream, throw food, and spill water. That's the norm, right? I think my kids sense that mommy takes food VERY SERIOUSLY and she's not messing around. :)

Etcetera.