Category Archives: food & drink
At preschool, they list what the 3 and 4 year olds say they are thankful for. Doodles was thankful for his toys much like Pablo gave thanks for Clones last year.
I am thankful the school installed safety guards on the bathroom doors as Doodles had previously got his hand caught. It was pretty nasty. I almost passed out, too.
The four year olds were thankful for other things. Neither of our kids are represented on the long lists here, it’s just fun to read.
If you want presents, you gotta believe in the C.o.S. – Church of Santa.
And we’re thankful for good friends, food, beverages, and those who know how to share it.
Thanks for reading. I am especially thankful for comments, too.
Happy Thanksgiving. Take a moment to remember all you have and share with those that don’t.
Beat the heat and step back in time with me, won’t you. Check out Liberty Frozen Custard across from a firestation (!) at 5401 Nicollet Ave, just north of Diamond Lake Rd. Kids run amok with cap guns and coins aplenty for old timey arcade fun. There’s even a fireplace with pulp novels and retro couches for the non summer day. Tons of fun. We’re currently enjoying pints of caramel, cookie dough and black raspberry chocolate swirl. Jealous? Get some.
It’s the kind of place you tell your Dad about on Father’s Day.
Speaking of, ours was fantastic, thanks for asking.
Uptown Market, Singin’ in the Rain at the Ordway (featuring actual dripping from the ceiling water dancing), dinner at Dad and Mom’s in Prior Lake. Good times.
Summer. We hardly knew ye and already the days are getting shorter? What the huh?
Tomorrow, Phoenix. Wed a screening of the new Woody Allen/Larry David. This weekend an old school BBQ with college friends. Life, it’s bigger.
What about you and yours? Do tell.
Before scraping, rinsing and placing in the dishwasher, I eat what is leftover on my kids’ plates. Sometimes I have syrupy waffle nuggets, the last finger of banana in a peel or the crusty ass-ends of sandwiches. These are my meals some days. I’ve had peanut butter and honey for lunch and fishstick nubs for dinner.
I eat standing up over the sink or garbage. We always strive for the sit-down family dinner when Mama comes home. But between 8am-6pm, we’re not winning any rave reviews from Dara Moskovitz.
Along with this new diet, I’m resembling a homeless man. I shave only about two or threes times a week, not a big deal with my hair colour, but there are some days I don’t shower. If I know I don’t have to see anyone socially and will just be soiling myself at the park later, why bother? I have little-to-no paid income these days. And most females stay away from me at the parks. There must be something wrong with the guy out in the daytime sun and not wearing a suit downtown. Say what you will, it’s a dirty job, this homebound dad biz, but somebody’s gotta do it.
I also wrote this entry standing up, whilst taking a break from playing Bad Pizza with the family. I resemble an old movie producer boss of mine standing at his laptop with a headset phone. The only thing I’m not doing like him is throwing dead batteries at the kids like he did at his assistants. That and not making any million dollar movie deals.
I’m younger than he was. I have time.
A recent family game we played cast Mama and the boys as police officers. I secured the role of a “bad pizza”. I needed to be caught and brought to jail. Then the police pulled off my pepperoni. Wait, that sounds wrong. But yeah, for some reason I was a bad pizza that had to be caught and then punished by being eaten. And yes, Doodles added a flourish to his character. He was a “mustache police”.
Just one of the many games we play. Was it a critique of the dinner we had just eaten? Perhaps.
“Pizza is a lot like sex. When it’s good, it’s really good. When it’s bad, it’s still pretty good.” — Woody Allen
Mama bid on a special event for a charity at work. She won us an in-home chef dinner donated by Executive Chef George from McCormick & Schmick’s.
Last night Chef George arrived and was greeted at the door by Doodles.
Doodles: “You have a mustache!”
Chef George: “Yes, I’ve had it since I was 15. I knew it was a bad sign that I was probably not going to grow much more if I had a full mustache already.”
Doodles: “You’re a mustache chef!”
(Sometimes the blog writes itself. I just have to report the dialogue.)
George had trained under Emeril Lagasse in New Orleans. He created a seafood odyssey at our home last night for us and two other couples. We had scallops with curry, macadamia nut encrusted halibut, salmon with brie and spaetzel and 5 bottles of wine. It was fantastic. He even brought the plates so we had few dishes to wash.
If you get a chance to have a mustache chef come to your house, go for it.
So many start one of these bad boys* and then don’t keep it up. I hope that using the iPhone I will be able to update le ‘stachebot on the fly. Hold me to it. Keep me busy and pure. And blogging whilst drinking.
So Pablo learned about China last week in preschool but obviously he didn’t learn about racism.
“Dad, I’m Chinese!”, he said as the noodle dangled Fu Manchu style from his mouth.
The mustache fetish continues.