Don't Be A Complete Tool

Today is my husband's and my wedding anniversary. We decided to celebrate with a little lunch. Uh, no, we absolutely do not ever learn. We're stubborn that way.

The restaurant we decided on is directly across the parking lot from The Restaurant Who Shall Remain Nameless. Booth? Highchair and booster? No problem! We didn't even ask for a booth this time (this restaurant has a good, solid table set-up with nice, wide chairs that will safely accommodate a booster) and we got one anyway.

We didn't even care that our waitress completely screwed up both mine and hubby's order. Somehow, "Three Sauce Fajita Burrito" turned into "three enchiladas". From listening to the conversation at the table next to us, this is a pretty routine thing for this girl. One of them got the wrong entree twice because she couldn't get it right.

I didn't care. Why? Two Margaritas. Yep. At noon. I'm a light weight, so that would be the equivalent of 5 Margaritas for pretty much anyone else.

Then I went chair cover shopping. Yeah, drunken chair cover shopping. Watch out for me!

We went into the first store,a department store, and there was a family walking by us on the way out. They were, what had to be, a Grandma/Mom/Granddaughter combo. Just at the moment we were walking past, Grandma turns to Granddaughter and blurts out, "Stay out of the bras and panties."

?

Granddaughter was probably around 8 or 9 years old, so we were kind of puzzled why this would be an issue. Then, because we're complete assholes, we couldn't stop making fun. The next store we went into:
"Stay out of the bras and panties."
"Stay out of the condoms."
"Stay out of the anal beads."
"Stay out of the little girls' panties."

I'll own up to being the tool in this one.