June 16, 2007
Contrary to popular belief (as indicated by previous comments), you do not have to audition to be my friend. It's really not that hard, folks. All you have to do is buy me things, take me to dinner, or laugh at my jokes. If you take it a step further and pee in your pants because my jokes, then we can automatically be friends for life.I'll tell you what, Carl must have caused my Dad to pee himself a time or two, because these guys have been friends since like 1942. Consequently, I've known Carl since I was nothing but a glimmer in my mother's eye. His house was actually the first bachelor pad that I ever had the pleasure of stepping into. I was like 8, and I was shocked that it had a kitchen. I was even more shocked at its tasteful decorations. I also remember babysitting Carl's chocolate lab when I was a kid. My Dad tied "Choco" to the tree in our back yard so he could get a bit of peace and quiet. When he woke up from his nap he realized that Choco had freed himself by gnawing through the rope and then bolted. I thought it was fabulously funny. My Dad on the other hand, did not. That was the day I learned every swear word, in every language, ever invented.
Anyway, Carl was in town on business and invited us out for dinner last night. I never ever say no to offers of food, and we had a really fun time last night. We went to Sonny Bryan's, a local institution here in Dallas. Sonny's is famous for their ribs, brisket, and smoked sausage--coincidentally, the first three things I'm going to request when I arrive in heaven. Here are a few pics for you viewing pleasure:
Here we are. Do you see all of the food on that table? Do you see the expression of rapture on my face?
Here is Carl talking to our bubblehead of a waitress. I'm willing to bet that she'd be really confused by James's barnyard puzzle. Do you see Carl's forced, polite, look of confusion? She was probably like, "Um, that'll be seven thousand dollars, and I'll need to take those glasses, too."
Here is a picture of James. See his new haircut?
And finally, this is the candy that James picked up and ate right off the sidewalk after dinner. I honestly can't say that I blame the kid. I kind of want to lick my laptop screen right now.
I do have a fantastic picture of Carl mopping the sweat off the back of his neck after one or two bites of jalepeno suasage, but based on the threats I received as we were leaving the restaurant, I'm not able to post that picture at this time. I suppose that he doesn't want the world to know what kind of lightweight he actually is. So I won't mention it.
Thanks again, Carl! We owe you dinner...just as soon as we have some income. In the mean time I can offer you some used parenting magazines.