Darin is up in SF for Andy Hertzfeld’s book party at Macworld, so I had the kids to myself tonight. I was not in the mood for finding something we could all eat, so I took the kids out to Willow Street for dinner. Sophia did quite well with her dinner. And quite well with Simon’s too: she’d lean over and whisper in his ear, and he’d take a fry off his own plate and feed it to her. Parents: lock up your little boys now.
Anyhow, sundaes came with their dinners. Sophia dug into hers, and Simon just kept playing with his. He’d mix it up, then take a spoonful of goop and let it drip back into the bowl. I said, “Simon, are you playing with your food?” And he said, “No, Mama, I’m dripping.”
Bet you didn’t know “to drip” was a transitive verb!
They did act up a little while we were there—threats were issued, fake crying ensued, the usual—but overall we had a pretty good time at the restaurant. It just helps to go at 5 in the evening, rather than 6:30 or so. Sigh.