The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

The Good:

My mom begged me to let her keep my kids last weekend as their Christmas present! Guess what I said?!

Went to beloved Seattle (or thereabouts this time)

As usual, the trip is all about the company and the food. Saw the twins (still baking), while Sarah and I made ourselves scarce from the ranch and the other chittlins and Angelo and got some OH SO GOOD...

for dinner Friday.

Sushi and terriyaki for lunch on Saturday with a little

sprinkled in.

Aztec chocolate was my favorite. It bites back with some pepper thrown in. They know the perfect ratio so as to make you feel the heat without tasting the pepper. AMAZING!

And for dinner we were serenaded by a mature Indian man's song 'Ode to Grandchildren' (which reminded me of my smitten parents), before he served us some Aloo Gobi and Goa Chicken for take out.

I slept in Emmeline's bed which she assured me did not smell.

The Carvajal's home is WONDERFUL! They'd love to see you in it. Especially if you like babies. Especially in March.

The Bad:
All good things must come to an end. The trip and the donuts.

Thought my camera was broken. Angelo assured me that Seattle weather does that to all electronics.

I bought Christmas clothes for Isaac and Mae for Sunday before I realized that Christmas comes before Sunday. LOL!

My poor big Indian volunteered to drive 4 hours round trip to drop me off at Sarah's for a visit while he did some business and attended a round dance in Yakima. (This may very well fit into The GOOD category).

The Ugly:
My kids' faces (except Mae) when I tell them that we're leaving Grandma and Grandpa's house.

Somewhere

We drove through construction, over bridges, under bridges, through numerous stoplights and behind grandpa drivers because my mouth watered for some chicken tika masala and naan.



When we arrived, we got an eyeful of something akin to this:

"NNNOOOOOO!" I moaned. "NOOOO, NOOOO, NOOOOO!" for several minutes I whined and complained and I moaned.

From the back seat came the request, "Mom, stop crying, you're making me nervous." (Liv)

She only said that because she was gleeful that my favorite Indian joint had closed. The only thing she'd eat when we were there was the tandoori chicken by the plateful. hmmph.

I may never recover from this. Indian folks who cook so marvelously, who charged me for one adult and one child even though I have 4 (which is probably why you've closed your doors), wherever you are, know that I love you so. Somewhere out there, beneath the pale moonlight, someone's thinking of you and loving you tonite. We may yet be reunited. Somewhere out there, out where dreams come true.