that thing that pops out of a turkey's butt

sam has an affinity for pizza every friday night. it can almost be likened to that thing that pops out of a turkey's butt when its done being cooked. something of that nature happens like clock work on friday evenings, i have grown to anticipate it and he has grown to expect it. now its not just him who has a turkey timer that pops forth from his butt it is a forrester family affair...really, a tradition. so we try and uphold said tradition in our own, small forrester sect.

***right now im typing one handed as my daughter gnaws, very painfully with her two bottom teeth, on my other thumb.***

so we headed to beaujo's pizza, a colorado pizza tradition, where honey is used on the crust, if you so choose, and you better because it is delicious!

walking in the place smelt of sweaty socks. not particularly dinner inspiring. we were maneuvered to our table, waaaaaaayyyy back in the back by a HUGE flat screen tv (not my fav because sam tends to be drwan to the pretty tv lights) and a large, loud wedding party. we got a seat for evelyn because she just simply protests laying supine anymore in her car seat, but she isn't quite big enough (big as she is) to not bobble and wobble around in the high chair. so i dig out everything bulky i can find from the diaper bag and proceed to pad it around her. it looks....ghetto at best, creative at worst. then i quickly wipe down everything i think she might touch, lick or try and eat within her reach. usually i miss the underside of the table or the belt that she manages somehow to get into her mouth.

last night as i performed my duties of wiping down everything dirty evelyn decides to face plant onto the table and lick as fast as she can the surface. two gentlemen at a different table behind us burst into laughter at this sight. not knowing we were a show i looked toward them and laughed too then gingerly un-suctioned my daughters lips from the table and offered some sort of toy. but toys don't last long and usually end up on the dirty, dirty floor...and i can't wipe that down with a wet wipe...or can i?

we ordered dinner, swapped places - took evelyn out of her padded highchair which she managed to find some way to slump to the left in regardless of all the junk shoved around her - did our little new-family-of-three-out-to-dinner-dance. as crazy and hectic as it really is when i think about it we really usually manage okay. and neither of us break down in the end so that's a positive.

well, as we were finishing up the wedding party table behind us was preparing to leave. evelyn is of course, hanging over my shoulder and flirting with whoever will give her attention...usually not a difficult feat for her to get attention. one lady in particular walks up close, nearly drooling over evelyn's cuteness factor and asks to hold her. now i'm a bit of a germ-a-phobe but i've come a long way since everyone wants to hold this child, touch this child, etc etc. so i let her hold evelyn. she gushed and gushed and kissed her face and evelyn just ate it up. when she handed her back she told me that evelyn looked just like me and she'd remember her forever. cute. sweet. sort of crazy but nice.

the table left and we started to pack up and pay. but before we were could leave one of the gentlemen from the aforementioned table (the one that laughed at evelyn's amazing, suction lips) came and said to us, "since you've had complete strangers come up to you all night i just had to say that even though that woman said she looks just like you (me) she really looks just like you, dad." sam beamed.

all in all it was a good pizza friday. evelyn held it together but really, more importantly, we held it together. we're getting good at this parenting-out-in-the-open stuff.

letting strangers touch and sometimes hold evelyn is hard because all i wonder is where their hands have been. yep, im one of those! but ive noticed lately the ones who flock to her and make it a point to stop for her just must need a little baby in their life. and who am i to deprive another of God's children a moment with a baby? so maybe this is the beginning of me giving her back to the one who gave her to me.