Foot in Mouth Syndrome

The Tasty Salad
We had a great meal at our friends home yesterday. The same friend who cooked dinner for us is also taking care of our fish (6 of them) and our plants (5 of them) AND her dad is staying in our apartment while we are gone (a HUGE help to us financially!) AND she is letting me borrow a car seat—no questions asked (hopefully the checked baggage people won’t destroy it)—and to top it all off, her little boy and Alyosha are what seems to be best friends.

She invited us as well as two other friends who are expecting a baby in the next 5 weeks over to her home to have a nice dinner and drop off the aquarium. Rome, the kids and I spent the morning lazing around at Krueger Farm on Sauvie Island—having lunch, picking berries and buying produce for the salad that I was supposed to bring. We got over to Heathers at a normal time for us, only 10 minutes late, but the salad was not thrown together yet. So I spent the first 15 minutes busily putting together the salad while chatting with the girls and the boys were having their boy talks. Naturally, Heather had everything else already prepared—so when late me finished our salad we sat down to eat. Roma was in the middle of telling some story about medical bills and the health insurance company devils while having bites of his salad in between—when he gave a compliment. The conversation went something like this:

Roman: It is 7 months later and we are still receiving bills for Luka’s delivery! You had better get it in writing that your wife doesn’t want an epidural now so you can pull it out when she asks for one…those are expensive. (He turns to Heather) Heather this salad is delicious! Steve, you are lucky, but I bet your wife doesn’t cook this every day for you.

Silence and heads turning in all directions looking at each other trying to figure out what to say next…

Heather: Oh, is the salad your WIFE made good?

Silence as Roma’s face turns beet red…

Jen whispering: Not to mention the chicken, garlic potatoes and green beans are good too….!

Heather: Can you pass the salad, I haven’t had any yet.

Everything was topped off with blueberry cobbler baked by Heather and ice cream. I would say an almost perfect Sunday.


Menu Choices
Romka doesn’t like choices. Menus are full of choices. He has been known to go into a restaurant, close his eyes, point to a dish and ask for “that, please.” It has gotten him into trouble a few times—like the time we paid $15 a glass for some wine. Or the time that he ordered a plate of raw meat. At least the waitress was kind enough to say try again on that one. Last Thursday we went out for dinner at a little tea shop called the Tea Zone. They have an amazing variety of teas and really delicious savory snacks. I read through the tea menu—there are about 75 teas—and chose exactly the one I wanted. It was perfect…it was #47. When the waiter came up for our order, I asked for # 47 and Roma blurted out #25. The barista asked if he would like milk with that. Roma wavered for a moment and agreed. We had a lovely evening-the weather was beautiful, the atmosphere was First Thursday (summery excitement) and we were enjoying our moments without kids. When we got home, Roma drove Danielle, who babysat for us, home. When he came back the tea had set in—he was shaking and his mind was moving a million miles a minute. I will just add that Roma went to bed that evening at 4 in the morning, woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed at 7am and started his day. Will this teach him a lesson? I think not.