Pride goeth before-well you know

Could you tell I was feeling pretty good about myself on that last blog? The not eating out thing was really working out, right? In a hypocritical twist of fate, on the same day I wrote that, we went out to dinner that night. I can justify it. I can always justify it. We went to see a play with the kids and my sister's family. I'd lost track of time before leaving so hadn't fed the children, a rather important part of parenting. So they noshed their way through The Music Man on popcorn but still needed dinner. Since that show ran over three hours when my sister said they were going to Ihop to eat and didn't we want to go, I said yes. After all, it would be quicker than going all the way home and fixing something, right? 

There were naggings and misgivings as I said it, but I wanted it. Like that next glass of wine when you've already got the happy feeling going. You know it isn't really a good idea but after a feeble protest you allow the host to refill the glass and you drink it. In the same way, I polled the rest of the family, tempting them into it as well. Great celebrations ensued that we were going to be eating out, not sure what that says about my cooking but that isn't the point. 

It wasn't that I didn't enjoy my Ihop meal. Oh, I did. The cheesy omelet with a side of crisp hashbrowns, lightly salted made my tastebuds smile. BUT, since it was already late, my 7 year old son burst into tears when he thought there was not a kids menu to color. There was, but the tears had already happened by the time the server brought it. I knew he was tired, we all knew. After all the first bout of tears had come in the theatre lobby when I threw away his empty water bottle. He cried because I wouldn't let him fish the water bottle back out of the trash. He said he was pretending it was his bad guy whacker. While I can understand needing a weapon if a bad guy shows up, not sure that a small plastic water bottle is going to be the key to my survival. I digress. 

So, at the restaurant, first we had the tears, then it took about 20-30 min before we actually got our food. So in the end, I think we would have been better off just heading on home and eating a pop tart or something. And I am not even going to get on the scale today.