Open Wide! ... Or Not.
So this past weekend, a man instructed me to "open your sexy mouth and let me do the rest."
... And it wasn't my husband.
It was the hibachi chef at a Japanese restaurant.
As you know (or maybe not if you aren't a regular reader of my blog, and if you aren't you should be because it's like totally awesome or maybe just slightly cool. Whatever) my sister was here for the weekend. And in honor of her upcoming birthday - and the fact that I had the opportunity to leave the house without my children (adults! conversations!) - I took her to experience hibachi. If you don't know what that is, click here for an explanation 'cause I am totally too lazy to type it all out. And this baby on my chest doesn't help.
Anyway, the chef had these little pieces of cooked egg that he was flipping into people's mouths with his spatula, which is why he ended up uttering the aforementioned creepy line. But yuck.
(PS - I did not open my sexy mouth.)
Otherwise, it was a great weekend. I so enjoyed having my sister here. I mean, I can't shovel an entire batch of puppy chow into my face while discussing how funny it would be if farts came out in little floating shapes with just anyone.
... Obviously we have reached the absolute pinnacle of maturity.