Rob Goes Greek


Justin, Robbie, and I were on our way out of the store with groceries for tonight’s dinner when we saw the flier reminding us of the Greek festival going on down the street. We debated in the parking lot for a few minutes before Justin ran the groceries inside and we piled in the car for a little Greek food. After all, nothing like a little lamb, feta cheese, and baklava the night before a Jenny Craig weigh-in.

The line was outside the tent and down the sidewalk. We waited well over half an hour to get to the front of the line, with a very special young man in line behind us. He started crouching down next to Robbie about fifty yards outside of the tent. He continued next to us most of the way through the line. At one point, I had to ask him three time not to hand my child a piece of trash he found on the floor. Three times! He had the nerve to tell me it was OK, as long as Robbie didn’t put the piece of plastic in his mouth. Oy!

About three bites into dinner, Rob got moved by the music. He hoped down from his chair and started to boogie in the middle of a very busy aisle. Barefoot. You know, ’cause that’s the kind of classy we are. He made his way to the dance floor and clapped and twirled all over the tent-covered parking lot. I would have given anything to have had my camera. He moved with such abandon, not caring about anything but the music. And the girls. He loved the girls on the dance floor.

You know, every now and then being an adult is so much better than being a kid. Like tonight. I loved getting to decide last-minute what to do with my family. Or, occasionally, to have ice cream instead of a real dinner. It kind of takes the boring out of the monotony that life can sometimes bring.


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