Really, we actually do eat at other (better) restaurants than Hooters. I suppose I never mention it because it is never as interesting as what happens at "the owl restaurant." (as Grant calls it)
So, Tuesday night we grabbed some oh-so-good-for-you wings after picking Jamie up from tennis. And, yes, one of my children was still in their Catholic school uniform. The waitress was friendly and not as dumb as some I have encountered at this establishment. When she was taking our order, however, she started to act a little strange. She was distracted and looking around oddly. Finally, she started laughing and looking down at her leg. Then she looks at us and says, "um, he is rubbing my leg!" Grant was sitting at the end of the table and was fascinated by those fake-tan, crazy panty-hose they wear. So, there you have it - proof of my classiness and mothering - my 4-year-old was feeling up the Hooter's girl.
I'm so proud.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Those panythose ARE freaky, aren't they? I guess it's better than the alternative.
Thanks for leaving a comment. I love the name of your blog.
That's hilarious MB! I'm so oddly proud of him right now. I'm so afraid my own son would do the same thing.
Post a Comment