I {Heart} City Crab -- And Grandparents

We had the most amazing dinner last night. We had in-season, soft-shell crab at a Manhattan restaurant called City Crab which has always seemed too chic for a person such as myself to visit, therefore in its 15 years I had not been there until last night.

The soft-shells were awesome. I wanted to order another round for dessert. My advice? If my husband tells you to go eat something somewhere, DO IT. You will not regret it.

Tonight, we ate at TGIF, which shows you what a wide range of gastronomic adventures we cover. My tuna sliders were tasty as were the potstickers and yahoo, margaritas without guilt since DuckyBoy is at his grandparents' until tomorrow night.

Which means I do not have to be up and exciting at the crack of dawn (on weekends, I consider 7:30 to be the crack of dawn). I get to sleep in, sleep it off, and read my email in my pajamas, and take my shower whenever I am ready to, even if the show is over and the commercials are coming on.

I do not have to make sure there are at least 3 bottles of cold water in the refrigerator. I do not have to wear something modest to bed in case of a bad midnight dream. I do not have to not have another drink so that I am aware enough to get persons other than myself out of the apartment in case of emergency.

I do not have to make up any stories about cars, stuffed animals, or any other inanimate object. I do not have to run through a litany of breakfast options or discuss why dessert is not served after breakfast.

I am going to go not do those things now.