But for the Asians, or those married to them, it was the first day of the new year. The Chinese New Year, or as Hyphen likes to call it, in a cute little fit of nationalism, The Lunar New Year. You are supposed to live the day the way your year will be, according to my mother-in-law--clean house, clean laundry, no fighting, no spending money, and wear red, because it brings you luck. We were good on the red part.
We celebrated by going to dinner with our friends last night. And then today, we headed to Chinatown to see a dragon dance. Annabelle was excited to see the dragon--this was the year she wasn't going to be afraid.
Armed with the knowledge H gleaned from the internet--we headed to the Viet Hoa market, where they were supposed to have a dragon dance. But, as happens every year, the info H gets from the internet regarding where the celebration is, was wrong. So while we were there, we decided to eat at the Parisian Cafe, where the kids loaded up on cha, a kind of processed meat and H and I had bahn mi which is like a subway sandwich, if subway had homemade mayonaise, cilantro, cucumber and jalepeno on it. And tasted good.
Of course, no visit to Chinatown would be complete without a trip to the bathroom. Annabelle has been potty trained since she was two, and she is now going on 5. We go to Chinatown at least twice a month. So conservatively, that is about 75 times that I have had to take her to a Chinatown bathroom. If you have ever been to the bathroom in Chinatown, well, you understand why I dread going. Now, I am not saying that Asian people are dirty and have bad bathroom hygiene . I am not saying that. I am not saying that because it would be racist and unkind, but I am saying that the people whose job it is to clean these bathrooms, these people, should be fired.
So, we decided to drive down Bellaire and look for some kind of celebration. Annabelle spent that time telling Tallulah that the dragons were not real, and that they were just people in a costume. From inside the car, we heard the raucous noise that marks the dragon dance and followed it to the Kim Son buffet. H dropped us off at the front and went to park. From there, I fought the crowd, carried Tallulah and her rainboots and sweater and my over-laden mom-purse, up the two flights to the second floor, while guiding Annabelle and making sure she didn't get crushed in the mass of New Year celebrants. We got there and Annabelle pushed her way to the front of the crowd. That child is ready for N.I.O.S.A.
Then she got a good look at the dragon. Up close and in her grill. And she started to scream. And I started to laugh, and Tallulah started to cry and H found us and scooped up his oldest, who was still screaming and he was laughing too.
Afterward, she said she was only a little scared, because it was loud and part of the dragon brushed up on her leg.
You be the judge.
No Tallulah pics, because I was holding her with the other hand, not that I needed to--she was clutching onto me for dear life
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