My husband celebrated 43 years of his life two days ago on Friday, March 16th. We didn’t do much to celebrate on that very day as he chose to help out in the School of Economics field trip for Perry's class and then help coach Perry's baseball team's Friday practice.

But about a week ago he did specifically request a special dinner at his most favorite restaurant – The Capital Grille – and we chose to make reservations there on Saturday night. Phil dines there on occasion with clients at lunch, and he took me there for our anniversary. It’s a wonderful, upscale restaurant that Perry begged and pleaded asked to go to and we gave in... like most parents of only children do.

We decided that as an 8-year old, he was at a place in his life where it could be a treat to enjoy an ultimate restaurant experience, or it could be just another night out to eat. It ended up being a real treat… we indulged in calamari for appetizers (and it didn’t even gross Perry out), a wonderful chopped salad and a filet that melted like buttah in our mouths.

To top the evening off, my brother and sister-in-law surprised us with a gift certificate to this restaurant for our birthdays. It was hand delivered to us by our server with the bill – which was a very delightful treat. Thanks Diana and Craig!

But before we enjoyed my husband’s birthday meal, we spent some time walking around the Plaza before dinner, enjoying some of our favorite shops. We walked in to The Better Cheddar and sampled a few cheese bites that were in these little plastic containers sitting on top of the cheese wedges. Being the graceful lady of this family, I proceeded to spill all of the contents of one plastic container, filled with a smoky cheddar cheese, all over the floor. As any good mother would do, I made asked Perry to pick up all the cheese up off the floor and pretended that it was my 8 year old son who dropped all the cheese and not his graceful, elegant mother.

Perry then started watching the gals behind the counter to see what they would do and they began to dice up some more sample bites of the cheese that I had just spilled when he yells out for the entire store to hear… “Hey mom – Look – she’s cuttin' the cheese!” Phil and I are about to fall over ourselves laughing and Perry is looking at us like we have lost it… which we have, because back in our junior high days, cuttin' the cheese didn’t mean dicing the cheese into bite-size wedges with a knife.

I explained to Perry what it meant to us, and he looked at me like we were crazy.

Which we are. What did it mean to you all in junior high?!

But it sure did give us our belly laugh for the evening. Phil and I even brought it up at dinner again with Perry and we laughed ourselves so silly, we had tears in our eyes.

Happy Birthday Phil – we’re glad you are a part of our lives And next time you feel like cuttin' the cheese, make sure you have a good supply of crackers.

Labels: family fun