Friday night is date night

Tonight, after a day that started with Tallulah climbing out of her crib, coming downstairs, and poking me in the sleeping face saying, "mommy, I whan some meulk peese", I begged H_____ to go out to eat for supper.  He obliged and we went to our standby restaurant.  Teotihuacan, or as we affectionately call it "the T."  We got there later than we usually do, so we had to wait for a table, but our waitress, R_____ got us one as soon as she could and gave Annabelle and Tallulah hugs and kisses and a small Spanish lesson as she usually does, and Tallulah showed her her new rain boots, of which she is very proud.  We don't even have to order.  She brings us our usual: two el monte plates, two kids enchilada plates, lemonade for the kids, tea for me and a water with no ice and a negro modelo for Hyphen.  She always brings the girls a little bit of queso as a treat and Tallulah hogs it all while Annabelle complains about it.  We eat, H talks about work, we talk about the girls, we make small talk about the game, and we are quiet.  I eat with Annabelle next to me and Tallulah in my lap, which means I eat at this really weird angle, cut up people's food, pick up various pieces of dropped flatware off the floor and am generally uncomfortable.

I start to muse about how we used go out to eat, b.c.  We went to some of the nicest places in Houston like Ibiza, Montrrose Cafe, Marks, Hugos, Mocking bird bistro, Vic and Anthony's.  It seemed like every week was a different culinary adventure.  We would start planning at about lunch, when one of us would call the other at work.  H would always  complain "there is no where to eat," (which he still says), but then he would call later in the afternoon and say, "so I heard about this place...." we would call our friends to see if they wanted to join us or meet up for darts afterwards, which they usually did.

Then I started to think about the best meal in my married life.  It was at our honeymoon.  We went off the beaten path somehow and were eating at this lovely place in the hills of Puerto Vallarta.  There were fireworks in the village behind us and our waiter made us some pasta tableside that has never been rivaled.  We also had cream of cilantro soup and some kind of dessert that was on fire.  In reality, it may not have been that good.  It might have just seemed good to our unsophisticated 23-year-old selves, but I still hold this meal out to be the very best  I've ever had, because of the atmosphere, because we were young and because we were so in love, nothing will ever top it--although the hamburger picnic we had in the backyard of our first house while pecan leaves were falling everywhere does come close.

But tonight we were at the T.  But lest you think we are in a terrible rut, let me describe the T.  The T is a Heights neighborhood joint.  Families of all types go there.  As I was waiting for H to bring round the car, I snapped out of my reverie and looked around.  Tonight there was a big group of senior citizens, all decked out in Texans gear, a large Hispanic family celebrating a birthday, average white yuppies with kids,  twenty somethings texting and talking about the new theater downtown that took the place of that "old shabby place, I think it was called the Angelika, it was dark and gross."  Gag.  And there were several big tables of gay men, two of whom were sharing a  kiss, and I hoped my butt was big enough so Annabelle didn't see them, because I am not ready to explain homosexuality or sexuality period to her and there is definitely not anything wrong with that.  So we were outside, waiting on H and I am watching the Tornado Bus Company across the street where a bunch of "guests" to our country were getting out of a bus, hugging and kissing their relatives who were there to greet them.  Then some people covered in tattoos and piercings came out of the T, holding their frothy michiladas.  I heard one of them say "whoa, I didn't know this was that kind of place, I was definitely not prepared to see that.  I know they were sitting at the bar and everything, but geez, get a room."

No, we are not in a rut.  We are not at Marks, we are not at the Backstreet Cafe, and we are not in Puerto Vallarta.  We are right where we are.  Teotihuacan on family date night.