When you think BBQ or cookout, what do you think of? I think of…
- A grill
- Hot dogs
- Shooing bees away from the desserts
- Napkins blowing all over place
- Doubling up on paper plates
- Plastic utensils that break when you stab your food
- Red Solo cups.
Well, you’re wrong.
Recently, Kiefer and I were invited to a cookout. We already had plans, but Radley went. When we picked him up, we saw this:
When’s the last time you went to a cookout and it was inside? With a dining room table covered in a white linen tablecloth, multiple forks, and water flutes? Water. Flutes.
I’m not sure what the main course was, but it was definitely not something that came off a grill.
This weekend we’re going to a soccer game. I don’t know what to expect. Soccer? Football? Can I wear sneakers? Should I bring a water bottle or a wine glass? Pop-Tarts are probably out of the question.
Favorite Comment From Last Post: “If you make your father’s new car a Batmobile, not only will you be hands down better than your brother, but he’ll also be extremely jealous because every man loves the Batmobile. Your whole family will refer to it as The Day Thoughtsy Bought the Batmobile. And Lunchbox will start being super nice to you and buying *you* awesome gifts in the hope that one day you’ll replicate The Best Gift Ever for him.
“Also your mother will be all, ‘He got a Batmobile and I only got a trip to NYC?’ so you’ll have to work extra hard on Mother’s Day next year. Luckily, Lunchbox will be so busy trying to impress you, he’ll pay for that Barbie Dreamcar and let you put your name on the card.”—Queen Gen