Monday, November 26, 2007

Owl Be Happy With That...

On this long and wonderful Thanksgiving weekend, we enjoyed a traditional Sunday afternoon feast of wings and fries at Hooters. This doesn't bother me at all. If anything, I'm relieved by visits to Hooters. I'm far too old to worry about competing with the staff (please), and it's refreshing to know that absolutely no one is looking at how many wings I'm eating, or how many fries I'm stealing off Three Year Old's plate. Yes, he was there, too. He likes the Owl Store. I would like any restaurant where they bring me treats for finishing all of my food, too. And, bringing a little boy to Hooters is like having free child care - hey, today's kid is tomorrow's Monday Night Football customer.

So, he gets a little package of crayons and a nifty placemat with pictures to color. I can't recall all of the pictures, there may have been a dinosaur or a bird or some bullshit like that to draw attention away from the three HOOTERS GIRLS for aspiring breast men to color. There's the volleyball girl, with a gigantic rack and washboard stomach. There's the tennis girl, with a gigantic rack and washboard stomach, and (don't say you didn't see this coming) the coup de grace - the cheerleader girl with the winning smile, flat stomach, and a rack you could see from space. I find this very funny, and point it out to Dave, who was also amused. Three Year Old asked me several times what color my shoes were, and I kept repeating that they were black - I was distracted by hunger and the pretty pictures of food in the menu. Finally, Three Year Old, who has figured out that I'm not following, says "Mommy! What color do you WANT your shoes to be? I have green and blue for shoes." I look over, still confused, since he is coloring the picture of the cheerleader. Dave asks Three Year Old, "Who is that a picture of?" and the response from my son who is beautiful, smart, charming, and intelligent says "That's a picture of Mommy."

Suddenly, the prospect of getting wing sauce under my new solarnail fills didn't worry me so much. For just a moment, I had a winning smile, a flat stomach, and a rack you could see from space.

The cheerleader outfit would have to go.

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