My birthday debauchery yesterday included pedicures at our local nail joint for the girls and I and then a dinner en famille at Oliveto's, one of my favorite restaurants in Oakland or any other land.
The girls got a passing grade on their first real white linen 'n silver dining experience, but that's only if you average their two grades together. The older child got a 100% for ordering salad and talking politely and clearly to the waiter, and the younger one got a 0% for complaining about slow service, ordering plain noodles at this bastion of fine dining, and then ceremoniously dropping her Magic Treehouse books on the floor. Sigh. Ever since we trimmed her hair last weekend she's been crabby. Don't know if it's because she's 7 or if it's because all her sweet nature resided in her split enz.
Either way the pear cocktail I was sipping made me completely oblivious to anything but the fact that I was out for dinner with three people I adore, a whole lot.
Then we came home and capped the evening by watching snippets of the Flight of the Conchords box set I received - the only gift I really wanted. Now I can watch "Leggy Blonde," "Fou de fa fa," and "Rhymenosauraus" whenever I darn well please.
In honor of that, I present Brett's fun hair helmet.
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