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My girlfriend and I were out doing not-quite-so-last-minute Christmas shopping today. We went to “The Big City” of
"I'm Just Not Myself!"
Scranton, because we had plans on hitting Panera Bread, our favoritest place to go.
There was a two hour delay today so our “head start before the kids get off the bus this afternoon” plans were set back a bit, but, hey, we were heading out anyway (and we WERE going to hit Panera Bread!)
School started at 10:00. My friend’s son was back to school after a two week absence due to other issues but this morning he was bright eyed and bushy tailed and raring to go. Somewhere between the last time I saw him at 9:15 and the nurse calling us at 11:15, he “lost himself.”
“Please come and get him,” said the nurse on the phone. “His teacher sent him down to me because he’s just not himself.”
No fever, no barfing, nothing like that. No, poor little guy just seems out of sorts and “just isn’t himself.”
Wow. When I worked at the daycare center we were not allowed to call the parents unless the child had been throwing up or had a fever of at least 101.
We did some talking and realized that Sonny Boy knew that Mommy was shopping with me, and he was missing out on all the fun…and he had gym class today too, which wasn’t very appealing.
So his strategy almost worked – his evil plan worked on his teacher, and amazingly, the school nurse, but not on Mommy & Me. Interestingly enough, he was just fine when he got off the bus and was playing with his friends.
“But mom, I was awful sick when the nurse called you.”
Yeah, right. Hon, ya gotta get up pretty early in the morning to pull a fast one on ol’ Mom and Wizzy.
Boy, if only WE had been lucky enough to have such a gullible nurse. I could have gotten out of a LOT of school, simply by not “acting myself.”
And let me tell you, the chicken tortilla soup in a sourdough bread bowl was amazing….
SAD BOY pic courtesy of jodiwilldare, Creative Commons
The Man of the Place and I had an impromptu date tonight. My good friend called to invite our son to see Prince Caspian with her son. Thinking quick, I offered her more money to take all three of our wildebeasts children along. The silly woman agreed!
So The Man and I ended up over at The Shoppes at Montage, a new shopping center “over Scranton way”. After spending a half hour or so wandering around in The Guitar Center (The Man is a musician, of course) we
decided to eat at Johnny Rockets, against our better judgement.
The last time we were there, I had the opportunity to have the worst apple pie in my life. I had never tasted such tasteless apple pie. Well, it was tasteless with a bit of a salty overtone (or undertone…). The coffee was good though, and since I live for coffee, the night wasn’t a total waste. However, I did the unthinkable and actually left most of my apple pie on my plate and filled my tummy with several more cups of coffee.
So anyway, we decided to go to Johnny Rockets to spend the $28 left on our gift card. I do like the 1950’s do-wop atmosphere, and was eager to pretend I was a teenybopper in a poodle skirt and saddle shoes. The best I could do was order a cheeseburger, fries, onion rings, and a milkshake. The Man told me that milkshakes were for dessert, and I told him he was born in the wrong era. Richie and Potsie always had shakes with their burgers.
I finally know why the staff at Johnny Rockets comes out every so often to line dance and make fools of themselves for the restaurant patrons: it is to distract us from the completely tasteless organic matter that is supposed to be our meal.
Never in my life have I left French fries and a cheeseburger on my plate. Until tonight. The strawberry shake was good, as was the coffee I requested to replace the meal I could not eat. The Man was happy with his chili dog, though.
From now on, it’s either The Boathouse on Lake Wallenpaupack, or Red Robin in Dickson City when I’m hankering for a burger. If only The Man would croon Blue Velvet or something while I ate – but you can’t have everything.
