IN WHICH OUR HEROINE GOES TO THE OUTBACK STEAKHOUSE...

...and tries to eat the entire menu.

I drove Bosco "home" to his Mommie yesterday afternoon, and was surprised at my emotional parting from the little guy.  We had long talks and cuddles, and after a twelve hour sleep Friday night (with him snoring and tooting his little heart out), I figured the hand off would be easier than it was.

As we sped along the highway, I started singing to him as loudly as I could..."My favorite nephew has a name and Bosco is his name-o!  B-O-S-C-O!  B-O-S-C-O!  B-O-S-C-O! and Bosco is his name-o!

And then I had to stop singing and call my sister and ask her to be a real live GPS because SOMEBODY forgot the directions on the kitchen table.

(For the record, it was Bosco.)

(He drinks Fireball whiskey and forgets things.)

But I digress...

On the drive home I bawled my eyes out and decided that I would stop for a bite to eat because...brace yourselves...I FORGOT TO EAT ANYTHING ALL DAY!

Forgot!

To eat!

Me!

I have forgotten my keys, my phone number, my middle name, where I put my outside shoes, and what I was supposed to have been doing the four years I was in college at Notre Dame.

But forget to eat?

That's just crazy talk right there.

So I sat down at The Outback and I ordered iced tea and caught sight of chicken wings on the appetizer menu.

And I ordered them.

And a salad with French dressing.

And a steak.

And smashed potatoes.

And grilled shrimp.

And mushrooms.

I really have to give the server credit, since she did not bat one eyelash at the enormous woman wedged in the booth ordering enough food for the restaurant, the people in the comic book shop next to the restaurant, or the ones in the Lowe's across the street.  She just brought it all efficiently and didn't so much as flinch when I ordered the salted caramel cheesecake for dessert.

Needless to say, I spent the grocery budget on dinner, but the happy news is that I have enough leftovers to carry me through next week and I didn't need to push a car through the Martin's to achieve that!

Life will now return to normal-ish with Stewey and I in the Happy Chair sans Bosco.  No more midnight potty trips outside, and I might just be able to sleep on more than four inches of the big girl sleigh bed.  Knowing that he will be able to see his person (and vice versa) is worth the little twinge of sadness.

And if that doesn't work there's cheesecake!