Thing 1 has turned into a mind-reader. Either that, or he’s just too smart for his britches.
For my anniversary celebration, I bought the Mister 19 bottles of good beer. And the nineteen bottles spelled out “Nineteen Years WooHoo.” My plan was to empty the fridge of food and place the bottles lined up neatly on the shelves.
Easier said than done, though, because some of these bottles are tall and there was a lot of crap in our fridge.
Thing 3 helped with the labels. While all three Things and I were pretty pleased about the presentation, we did wonder if the Mister would “get it,” seeing as English isn’t his first language. In fact, Thing 1 ventured that “Dad’s just going to ask where’s all the food.”
Sure enough, Tuesday night when he came home, he opened the fridge, let out an “oh! Wow!” and then “But where’s all the food?”
Good call, Thing 1.
Wednesday night the Mister and I had our dinner reservations at A Toute Heure. This is our favorite dinner spot in all of NJ, and if any of you folks are ever close enough to Cranford, I can’t recommend it more. It’s just delicious, without being pretentious. And it’s worth the drive. Anyways, the Mister was taking the train directly from work to Cranford station, where I’d pick him up just prior to our reservation. When I told the Things this (while they were eating dinner), Thing 1 hedged: “betcha dad gets on the wrong train.”
(backstory: Sometimes the Mister doesn’t pay too much attention to train schedules or he falls asleep on the train and misses his stop, and I’ve been known to have to drive all over western NJ searching for him. Most recently this happened on Monday. I’m usually not pleased about this).
I took Thing 1’s bet because I had insider knowledge: the Mister had already texted me with his arrival time. So, I leave the Things and start my drive to Cranford station, when the bluetooth switches on, and lo and behold, it’s the Mister. Calling from Westfield. Two towns beyond Cranford. He missed his stop. Because he got on the wrong train. (hear that thud? that’s the sound of my head hitting the desk. repeatedly.)
Kudos to Thing 2.
But all’s well that end’s well. We were not late for our dinner, and it was delish. And the silver lining: lots of belly laughs about the past few days.