Went with Uncle P & Cousin J to Hooters for lunch today with The Boy. We had a very good time: he was charming and pleasant. He was fascinated with the balloon that they gave him, yanking the string to make it bounce up and down and using it to play "bop bop" with Musical Daddy. He also did a lot of coloring, thanks to the crayons and placemat that they gave him - who'da thunk that Hooters would have a children's side? Plus, he charmed the tops of the waitresses around us.
Not literally, although I wouldn't complain if he did.
Best experience? The lunch was a result of a friendly wager between Uncle P and myself. I took the Steelers for the Super Bowl, he took Arizona. No spread. I won, so I dressed The Boy in his Steelers diaper to rub it in at today's lunch. No sooner had Uncle P said, "I hope he poops [the diaper] up good," then I smelled something wafting through the air... and had to change him using the women's room at the restaurant, because changing facilities didn't exist in the men's room. Sigh. Strike one blow for women's lib. Anyway, juggling a baby, a poopy diaper that had to be rinsed before put away and a diaper bag, with a pulled muscle in my back, was not fun at all.
Then, when we got home, I got a full fifteen minute nap while The Wife was introducing The Boy to sidewalk chalk. Hooray! I'm waiting on a clarinet lesson student to show up. Should be fun.