|Please ignore the weird sun/shadows that make me look like I have a |
tragic skin condition and bleached my husbands's shirt all stripey.
I'm about to Tarantino this thing, because the best part of the day--in my opinion, anyway--happened toward the beginning, and I'm going to save the best for last. What I'm about to tell you capped off our evening. We ended up going to Red Lobster, because Tyler's dad had given him a couple gift cards for his birthday. Now, let me just say that what happened next is 100% my fault, and I take complete responsibility for it. I hate seafood. The texture, the taste, the SMELL. Tyler's dad actually called and asked me if he could get him the gift cards, because we had joked about my aversion, and he wanted to make sure I would go with him. I've been to Red Lobster maybe three times in my life; I've never loved it, but hey, they have chicken and steak. So of course I'll go with him. My poor husband never gets to have seafood and he loves it.
So, the smell has me a little queasy, but it's actually one of the less potent Red Lobsters I've been to. I ordered a steak and Tyler got crab legs. Now, I have had a bad experience with people ordering crab legs around me in the past--it made me so sick that I went home and threw up, but that was in high school, and I figured I'd be fine. I just wouldn't think about the fact that those things come looking pretty much exactly like they did when they were alive or that the cracking makes me envision bones breaking. I mean, this is Tyler's birthday present, so he is going to order whatever he wants and loves, and I'm going to pretend it isn't happening and eat my very dead, very non-cow-resembling steak without saying a word.
Then his crab legs come, and that seafood smell is like a fog over our table. Hi, nausea and mouth-breathing. And then the cracking begins. I have had about three bites of steak, two bites of mashed potatoes, and I'm just playing with my food, trying not to think about what's going down across the table. Tyler has no idea this is going on until he looks up at me--apparently I have no color left in my face and I look like I'm "about to puke." BUT I DIDN'T, which I am very proud of, by the way. I stuck it out, you guys. The whole meal.
Tyler felt bad, which made me feel horrible, but I finally convinced him that it was totally my issue, and that I chose to go there with him and not say anything about his meal. I wish my discomfort wouldn't have been so obvious, but I have no poker face. I don't think Tyler will be taking me to Red Lobster again any time soon, though.
(Don't you dare feel sorry for me, though. Feel sorry for my husband. Those three bites of perfectly cooked, medium-rare, free steak? Heavenly delicious. And hey, I had leftovers for lunch yesterday.)
Oh, I was so, so gloriously wrong. This is the closest thing to my favorite antique store (a place in Cape Girardeau called Annie Laurie's) that I've found in Springfield. Like that place, Funtiques doesn't have booths for different vendors (that are always hit-or-miss), but instead has hand-picked items that are pretty much all incredible. Sometimes I like booth-style antique stores (Relics is pretty incredible), but they're always a pretty big time-commitment; if I don't have half a day to kill, I feel rushed and get frustrated. We stopped in Funtiques and came away with some fantastic treasures. I will definitely be back....frequently.
|We found this awesome metal letter for our wall. I'm dying to redecorate.|
|Love love love these word blocks! There were a ton, and I spent probably 30 minutes just going through them.|
|Another word block!|
|I have been looking all over for a wire basket like this one. So excited! And that little bunny was the first thing I picked up in the store. He matches my unicorn bank exactly, and he was so sweet. A total steal at $6.50.|
|They also had these tiny porcelain letters, 4 for $1. Lucky our last name is exactly 8 letters long. :)|