A Special Supper

My birthday came on Wednesday this year. Mike and Cameron are on opposite shifts from Nick so to do anything as a family, we have to do it on the weekend. Besides, Richelle and I left for convention Wednesday afternoon. So the boys took Mike, Richelle, and I out to supper Sunday. The last two years we've gone to the Mexican place here in town where the food is good and the service is...well...fun.

I assured the boys that they didn't need to tell the waiter it was in honor of my birthday but of course they didn't listen. They only get to see their mother wear a sombrero and be sung to in both Spanish and English once a year. Of course they're going to tell the waiter.

The waiter called everyone amigo/amiga/compadre when taking their order until he got to Richelle who he called Princess. Threw her off so badly that she started giggling and almost couldn't get out 'quesadilla'.

He brought Mike's order first and then came with Richelle's and Cameron's. He set Cameron's down and said, "Beef for you and chicken for you, amigo," he looked at Nick, "is coming."
"Uh," Nick stammered, "we both ordered beef."
"Too bad for you," the waiter replied nonchalantly. "It's already cooked."
Mike laughed so hard he nearly choked.

By the time my plate came, we realized we were a tableware setting short so Nick asked the waiter for a fork.
"A fork? You need a fork." Turning to the table across the aisle from us, he asked them, "You're finished with this? You finished eating?"

The highlight of the evening for everyone else was when they brought me the sombrero. Mike plopped it on my head, and the waiters sang in Spanish and then got everyone in that part of the restaurant to join in in "Happy Birthday". A part of the whole birthday thing there is that they bring the person a shot of some kind of drink. They told me it was tequila and Dr. Pepper. A slammer? I don't know except they slammed the little cup on the table and it fizzed. Last year, I only took took a sip and was heavily teased so this year I decided to try to down the whole thing. I mean, you only do this once a year, right? It was three nasty swallows. I do believe I'll pass from now on. I had to eat three chips to get feeling back in my throat and I can do without the small but potent burps I had for the next two hours.

Drinking certainly isn't something I'll be doing in the near future. Or the far future. Or ever.

Nick received the beef enchilada that he'd ordered, we got a new table setting, and the waiter got a fairly large tip.