Weekend

Open letter to the other diners at Outback in Burlington on Sunday night:

Um yeah, so I owe y'all an apology. You were sitting there, peacefully enjoying your dinner, when my son made that god-awful retching sound. He was fine, he didn't even barf, that's just something he does occasionally, when he has too much food in his mouth. He makes this hideous ralphing sound, stops chewing and kinda looks like he's gonna puke his guts up, then settles down and starts chewing again. It's weird, it's gross, I freak out every time he does it, but he's always fine and he almost never barfs. And yeah, that was me laughing hysterically afterward. We were so embarrassed and I couldn't even look up from the table, but I could. not. stop. laughing. My child was fine, but I could just imagine what the rest of you were thinking. Had I not been at my own table, I probably would have had a hard time not puking myself. What's funny is that both children had been at the grandparents' house just before that, and had both already eaten, so we easily could have left them there and gone out to dinner by ourselves. (Guess what we'll do next time?)