Roadshow to the Roadhouse

Last week was mostly uneventful.  Paul and I planned a romantic Valentine dinner at Texas Roadhouse using a gift card Paul got for his birthday.  That place is busy.  I'm talking traffic-after-fireworks, Walmart-on-a-Saturday-night, temple-square-during-General-Conference kind of busy.  We left at 4:30 hoping to get there before the dinner rush, but the wait was already an hour and a half when we arrived.  Andrea was home with her aunt, but we didn't want to be away for too long.  We decided to drive to the American Fork location.  After becoming sufficiently lost, and battling my carsick issues, we pulled around to the back of the building to park.  We walked around, past the dumpsters and a woman calming a baby, only to find another tremendous wait.  I looked at Paul.  He looked at me.  We turned around and got back into the car and ate candlelit dinner at the Arby's up the street.  Paul was so positive about the trip and turned everything into a joke so we still had a good time.  We concocted ways we thought they'd let us in to the Texas Roadhouse.  Paul suggested shotguns; I suggested impressive Roadhouse tattoos. But mostly we just drove and laughed.

The next day we decided to try using that gift card again.  My mom said it was much easier to get a table if you go early.  So shortly after 2:00 we packed up the baby and headed out with empty bellies.  I sat in the backseat with Andrea to keep her from fussing, but I was overheating in the sunshine.  I rolled down my window.  We pulled up into the Texas Roadhouse parking lot next to a car with doors ajar and smoking men lounging in the seats.  I made a comment to Paul about having to pull my infant out into the second-hand smoke before realizing my window was still rolled down.  I got out of the car feeling embarrassed and guilty but secretly hoping they didn't hear my rudeness.  We walked up to the front doors and heard one of the smoking men yell after us that they didn't open 'til four.  That basically motivated me to return to the car as fast as possible.  I smiled at the informative smoking man and thanked him for letting us know.  Then I threw myself in the car ungracefully and told my get-away driver to speed off quickly as if speeding off doesn't imply enough haste.

Perhaps we'll try again this week.

Last Friday, Andrea had her two month check-up.  She now weighs 9.2 lbs (14.7 percentile) and is 22 inches long (34.7 percentile).  She's getting a lot better at having tummy time and will occasionally roll over.  The rolling over, however, startles her and sometimes makes her cry.  It's exciting to watch the new things she can do.