Why do people with a gazillion kids bring the kids to a pub for dinner. Take last weekend for instance. After kayaking all day, eight of us went to a nice pub for dinner. We ask for a table of 8 which the restaurant had a hard time accommodating because there was a large reservation on the books. We negotiate a table and sit down, psyched to chill, throw back a few adult beverages, and watch the Olympics. All was going fine until two guys in green shirts showed up with a few chicks and a gazillion kids. Literally there was a two to one kid to adult ratio.
So the gang of 20 sits down and orders chicken fingers and chocolate milk all around. The screaming kids weren't even the biggest problem. To top it off, the dooshy guys in green shirts were Olympic know-it-alls. Every sport, every athlete, every score - these guys knew it all. It must be nice to be so smart!
So we finished our dinner, paid our bill, said goodbye to all those kids and went back to the camp to relax in peace.
So the gang of 20 sits down and orders chicken fingers and chocolate milk all around. The screaming kids weren't even the biggest problem. To top it off, the dooshy guys in green shirts were Olympic know-it-alls. Every sport, every athlete, every score - these guys knew it all. It must be nice to be so smart!
So we finished our dinner, paid our bill, said goodbye to all those kids and went back to the camp to relax in peace.
1 comment:
About time this blog came back to life - looking forward to some D-BAG action!
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