Scene: The airport,
where I am dropping off the hubby for a short business trip. I am attempting to
not act like a total basket case because I am, of course, a mature, responsible
woman capable of watching her own three children by herself for four days.
ME: [smiling] Have lots of fun in Utah!
HUBBY: Okay.
ME: [still smiling] Have fun playing with your sister and
your parents.
HUBBY: [nods]
ME: [still smiling] And get some dinner from Epic!*
ME: [bursts into somewhat hysterical tears]***
HUBBY: [a little stunned by my reaction] Oh, I’m sorry.
Order some Outback while I’m gone, okay?
ME: [nodding pathetically] Yeah, okay.
Scene: Twenty minutes
later, at the drive-thru at Wendy’s, I am ordering a burger. It’s not churrasco,
but at least it’s meat.****
* One of our favorite
restaurants in Salt Lake.
** Brazilian barbecue,
where they come around to the tables with giant skewers of meat, meat, and more
meat.
*** There is no
logical reason why the idea of Brice eating churrasco caused such hysteria. But
it did make me realize how much I miss semi-inexpensive churrasco. The only
churrasceria in the area that we know of is a snooty, high-falutin,’ $50-per-plate
one in Baltimore. That is not happening.
**** Theoretically.
