Never Let the Pregnant Lady Pick the Restaurant

Last night, I got home, and I was starving. Mike was walking around in a towel, having just gotten out of the shower, and I asked him what he wanted for dinner. He said, "Whatever. I've got 50 bucks from the audio equipment Tom just picked up!" I said, "Sweet! Well put some clothes on, Baby gotta' eat!" He laughed and proceeded to finish getting ready. First we had to go to the bank. Then we had to go to Rite-Aid because he was out of Listerine strips (yuk, I know, but waaaay better than a smoking habit). Then, it was on to food!

Again, I asked him what he wanted to go, and he said, "Whatever." I told him he should pick. Really. I pretty much knew his response would be, "Mystery salad* at Embarcadero Grill?" and it was, and I told him that was fine... but I was getting a chicken sandwich and fries. And I also told him, "See, never let the pregnant lady pick the restaurant. If it was up to me, we'd be headed for the Chinese buffet right now!"

We got to Embarcadero Grill, and ordered our food. We were, literally, the only people there besides the two employees. It was nice. We laughed and talked as loud as we wanted, and I didn't have to worry about being judged for my condiment habits, or the bbq sauce that was accumulating on the corners of my mouth. Good stuff.

*This is kind of our inside joke. The "mystery salad" is either the steak salad or the house salad on the menu at Embarcadero Grill. We call it this because it always seems to be different, and it has never contained all the things that are listed in the menu description.