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A Boat of Alfredo

When you go to the Olive Garden, breadsticks typically arrive on your table shortly after you sit down. If they don’t, then they should.  Regardless, if you haven’t eaten your breadsticks with their alfredo sauce, then you are absolutely missing out.  I can no longer eat the breadsticks without the alfredo sauce now.  However!  There is one teeny tiny problem.  This problem is called the boat of alfredo.  You pay extra for a ‘boat’ of alfredo sauce for dipping those delicious breadsticks in.  Your mouth is watering upon arrival of said ‘boat’.  And you see that instead, it’s more like a $2 baby raft that you’d drag down to the community pool with you.  Give it the benefit of the doubt, do you?  Okay, fine.  Go to dip your breadstick in the boat-now-raft, and find that it’s sadly very, very shallow.  This is where you sink way down deep into your booth and cry.  Okay, or maybe just gobble all of that alfredo sauce up and then beg, plead, barter, etc., with the waitress, to bring you just one more, PLEASE just one more, raft of alfredo sauce so you can continue expanding your pants size.  Next time I’m getting the pint.  Make fun all you want.  It’s just gotta happen. The Noah’s Ark of alfredo sauce.  YUM.

In other news, it’s now 12:19am and I should be in bed.  But my 12 year old son has had the flu for a week and is in my bed.  I’ve quarantined him to that room and tomorrow, when he’s all better (hopefully!), I shall disinfect every inch of that room so that we all remain healthy and flu-free.  But that’s not really why I’m not in bed.  Shoot, every stay-at-home mom knows that this is your only free time — at night — when no one is awake, the little blueberry pooopers and drama-filled artists are all tucked away for a little while anyway…. it’s finally quiet.  No one chasing me, no one needing me, heck no, I’m not folding any laundry right now, ah yes, I shall kick my feet up and catch up on my shows.  Shows are done now, though. I just couldn’t curb the alfredo sauce craving, so I had to jump on here and tell someone about it before I grab my blanket for a few z’s.  🙂

Want another Olivia story before you go?  ‘Cause you know I have one!  Tonight, when the girls and I went to deliver Girl Scout cookies to a friend and her daughters, we stood outside playing with their dog & cat for awhile.  Tired and delirious, it was very hard still, to pull my girls away from the fun at “miss mary’s” house.  But I got them in the car, and made them buckle up, when Olivia started screaming out the window toward our friends, “Bye-dios!  Bye-dios!  Bye-dios, my amigos!!  High-five, high-five, high-five!!”  I think I giggled the whole way back to the house.  She’s just 3, but you’d never guess it from the things she says or does.

Thank you, Lord, for little partially-spanish speaking girls and for rafts of alfredo sauce.

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