We went out
for dinner tonight at Sapporo, a local Japanese restaurant. Ben and Sam love it
there. And since it’s pretty much the only restaurant they are happy at that
keeps my calorie count at a manageable level, we are there a lot.
Same as
always, Sam ordered shumai and shrimp teriyaki. Ben ordered edamame and chicken
teriyaki. Tom and I got some sushi. The only dairy free alteration we make here
is that Sam replaces his Yoo-Hoo beverage order with apple juice. Not an
upsetting modification.
Sam did a great
job ordering. In fact, he was more polite than me. As he pointed out, I should have
said please when talking to the waiter. And next time I ask for a drink I should correct myself. So right. And so present.
As we all
tried to shoot the edamame into our mouths and not into our laps, we discussed Sam’s
8th birthday that is on Friday. What should we do? How about coming
back here and getting hibachi? Yes, yes. That’s fun. Will he throw the food in
my mouth like last time? And make an onion volcano? Yup. Let’s do it.
But wait, says Tom. Is there butter in that? What about in
his chicken teriyaki…did you ask?
Oh no, I moan. Did you? Can we just forget about it? Sam
don’t eat anymore. Let’s not tell them. People must do that. Right?
No, we can’t. Let’s ask.
Excuse me; is there butter in the chicken teriyaki?
No, no. In the hibachi yes. But not in teriyaki.
It’s amazing how quickly I managed to calculate how many days into the dairy free diet he was (14 out of 84) and then quickly realized that if he screwed up and we had to set the dairy free clock back to Day 1, it meant we could go get some froyo after dinner. There’s nothing better after sushi than frozen yogurt. You could have heard my sigh my sigh of relief (and then disappointment!) all the way in Summit at Sweet Orange.
And let’s
not even discuss that I was ready to lie. Nice mom, I am.
So exciting to see some changes, even though I'm only seeing them virturally, through your entries here. Sometimes it's almost painful to hope, but it seems like things are turning, slowly turning.
ReplyDeleteWhen I went to Max's third grade conference, the teacher brought up reading. Oh, here we go, I thought, bracing myself to hear about his problems. Max is an excellent reader, she said, and I burst into tears. I surprised myself at how fraught I really was, even though I thought I was holding it all together. The tears were flowing, I was sniffling, for God's sake, so embarrassing. But there it was. My heart right there on my sleeve.
Keep on keepin' on, sister!
xo Jill