along with other such gems as "Look at me when I'm talking to youuuuuuu!" and "Asking questions is my job"
But where was I going with this again? Oh yes, milkshakes.
Right.
So, I had just picked my munchkin up from the babysitter and we hurried home for a hot minute to pick up Josh and feed the wild animals before hightailing it out to Hudson for the grand-opening-wine-and-cheese (water please!) shmooze fest for the new model home we had just finished designing.
While I tended to the zoo, Wes found a Steak n' Shake add in the pile of mail on the coffee table and boldly declared that he wanted "THAT!" for dinner!!!
Using my cunning parenting skills I suggested that if he was good at the open house (to which only well behaved children are permitted to attend - meaning Wes obviously) and "didn't break anything" we would reward him with milkshakey goodness afterwards. Genius move on my part I'm pretty sure.
So Josh, Wes and I rubbed obligatory elbows with my clients and co-workers for awhile (of course Wes was the star of the night, not that silly old house, believe me!) and without breaking a single thing we made it out with both ourselves and the model unscathed - success!
Afterward, we drove aimlessly around Hudson on that ever so familiar quest in search of an answer to that age old question; "What do you want for dinner?" for so long I thought my fetus was going to go on strike.
"Eh, I don't really feel like eating that..."
"Too expensive..."
"That'll take too long..."
And so on and so forth before we finally had the bright idea of leaving the decision making up to the one person in the car who always has an opinion...
"What do you want for dinner, Wes?"
To which he matter-of-factly replied
"Probably a milkshake, duh"
Why don't we always let him decide such things? He clearly has a gift.
Turns out Steak n' Shake isn't actually very good, but they have sweet hats, so.
