Inspirations from cheese in a can. joey, kelly and danny.

Last night (maybe I should say yesterday afternoon), because Danny and I had been stuck with each other’s sick and grumpy company in the house for three days, I asked if we could enjoy our weekly dining-out experience on Wednesday rather than the customary Thursday.  I thought I had seen a sign at O’Charley’s that said something about two entrees for $20.  I guess restaurants are feeling the economic downturn pain, and are taking steps to recruit diners.  Well, it worked.  Though I was tricked.  FYI, the deal is two entrees (from a limited selection) and two drinks for $20 on Monday and Tuesday.  Oh, well.  We split a steak and came out close to $20 anyway. Danny ordered his own milk and shoved a plate of macaroni and cheese in his piehole with both hands.

While we were ravenously inhaling our food and the ambience of somewhere, anywhere other than house, I glanced up and noticed the other diners there at O’Charley’s on a Wednesday evening at 5 p.m.  All four of them, all very senior citizens.  And I don’t mean senior like you, Delores, I mean probably more like your mom’s great-aunt.  So I pointed out our dining companions to Joey, and asked him what he thinks our company says about the lifestyle we lead.  I often wonder the same thing when I’m watching TV and all the ads are for ambulance-chasing injury lawyers.  Anyway,  Joey said:  “After this, Maw, we gonna go home and watch Mama’s Family and HeeHaw, and then we goin’ to bed.”

I laughed until Danny started trying to copy my laugh, which was disturbing even as it was adorable.  Then he pointed to Joey’s cheek and said:  “Boogoo.  Boogoo.”  which means “booger,” for those of you who don’t speak toddlerese.  This was actually the second time he had tried to point out the embarrassment on his father’s face, and by now Joey was paranoid that he had a giant booger, so he was rubbing and pawing at his nose and cheeks.  To no avail.  The “boogoo” persisted.  That’s because it was a mole.  [Right now, in his cubicle in Alpharetta, Joey is muttering to himself:  "moley moley moley moley moley MOLE,"  because he can't help it.  He must at any mention of the word mole.  There, he just did it again.]  As I laughed hysterically, again, another anecdote was called to mind:  one time when I was putting Danny in his carseat, he started crying and trying to grab my face, saying “MOW.  MOW.”  Yeah, that’s because he wanted to remove the mole from my cheek and hold it.  He cried for probably five minutes over that, wailing:  “moooooowww peeeese…..moooowwww peeeese” so plaintively in the backseat it would break your heart.  Unless you were the one whose mole he wanted to remove and caress.  Then you would just be a little disturbed.

[Also, five points to anyone who gets the title reference.  Even you, Lula.  Maybe your illness and/or your trip to L.A. for the Twilight premiere will slow you down enough to give someone else a chance.]