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Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Hi-yo, Silver, Away!

A fiery horse with the speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty "Hi-yo, Silver!", The Lone Ranger
This blog is tardy.  I'm sorry.  We've been traveling.  But fear not, you won't miss a single thing (gee, lucky you).  The crumpled brown napkin beside me contains my blog notes for the week.  Really.

In no particular order:

Texas Burger
I have a new favorite burger joint.  Like those real estate folks say, location, location, location.  Texas Burger in Madisonville, Texas is great because it lies at the exact place where gas gauges tip to more empty than full, and bladders do the opposite.  And they have chocolate Blue Bell shakes.  And good cheeseburgers.  And their fries are silly good.  We hit the place coming and going from Fruitvale.  And Jack got to display his newest grown up trick:  Dipping his french fries in ketchup.

Now, no heckling from the peanut gallery about feeding our kid healthy food.  We eat more quinoa than the Incans, and Jack's favorite food is broccoli, so back off.  When you're road tripping, all bets are off.  And it's about the only time I ever just stride up to a register and demand ice cream from a total stranger.  Oh yeah, the ketchup.  For one so young, Jack has a very evolved routine for the consumption of the red stuff:

(1) Grasp french fry by the extreme end with the right hand.
(2) Do your dipping with gusto.
(3) Switch the fry to the left hand.
(4) Suck all the ketchup off the fry without damaging it.
(5) Bite off some of the fry.  If there's fry left over, switch hands and return to step 2.  If not, go to Step 6.
(6) Repeat step 1.

It's like a Japanese tea ceremony.

Anyway, after the crew's insulin shot into the ionosphere, and then crashed to earth like a firey meteor, we arrived in Fruitvale for Christmas with the Top Brass.  It was great to be up in the hometown.  And Jack got about every toy they would sell my mom, including two (!) LARGE stuffed horses.  That whinny.  Jack's still debating between naming them Scarto and Argento, or Waylon and Willie...

I even got to pop off the Glock Blunderbuss 51 times.  But who's counting?  While I'm making an old quart oil bottle pay for it's many crimes, Majesty is in the house talking to Jack:

H.M.:  What does daddy's gun say?
JMW, Capt.:  BOOM! (laughing)
H.M.:  What does daddy's gun say?
JMW, Capt.:  BOOM! (more laughing)

Before we went out to Fruitvale, we met our great friends Jody and Tonya and their kiddos in Sulphur Springs, TX.  We even got to eat afterward at a true diamond-in-the-rough restaurant, San Remo.  Real-deal Italians made their way (I only shudder at how) to North Texas and found it in their hearts to make me the finest veal piccata I have ever eaten.  Seriously, this happened.  The butter and white wine sauce, the capers, the veal pounded just so and browned properly...  I get a little emotional just talking about it.  And Jack got his first taste of (again, road trip, so the wheels are off)... wait for it...  TIRIMISU.  Check this out:


My man looks like some sort of cartoon character.


Oh, Tonya's grandma cracked me up when she exclaimed, "Boy she [Jack] sure is pretty.  That's the first time I got a good look at her!"


"She gets a lot of that, ma'am.  And thanks."


Neither of us bother to correct people anymore.  And this happens daily  Don't mind the blue, the trains, or the baseballs, people.  But then I think, these are the very same people that didn't realize they cut me off on 610 this morning.

Oh, and on a related note, many of you will be relieved that we got Jack a haircut last week.  It ah, didn't go as well as the first time.  Anyway, you can see his eyes now.  We were starting to get a lot of "Aw, his hair matches daddy's!" comments.  Dang right it does, sister!  I'm trying to look as much like this kid as I can, as fast as I can.  Wouldn't you?!

Okay, gotta run.  I'm tired.  Almost like this.

4 comments:

Jennifer said...

You should be happy to know that we get the exact opposite. I can't tell you how many people look at Jill in pink from head to toe (sometimes with a bow if she hasn't ripped it out within 5 seconds of me placing it in her hair) and tell me what a cute boy she is. Or better, ask me if it is a boy or girl. Really folks, visual cues....

El Comodoro said...

Right. I've only made one slip up, ever. And that was on a little boy with hair well past his shoulder. Jack's a little shaggy, but this was crazy long.

Anonymous said...

True story about the 1st time the skepper's mom went to church in a white heirloom christening gown, lace bonnet, locket, baby ring, booties, lace-trimmed socks and eye lashes thi-i-s-s long and a dear sweet elderly lady said, 'oh, it's a boy, ain't it?'Yes, visual clues, people. anyway sounds like the road trip was one to remember!

Jennifer Reinsch said...

Glad you guys had a safe and meal-fully fruitful trip for the holidays.