Valentine's humiliation

Perhaps for the rest of the married world, Valentine's Day is some uber romantic day. For us, it involves my husband who travels constantly stressing over if he'll be in town and what to do if he is and me going overboard for him and the kids. This year he surprised me with an iphone. Apparently he'd been stalking Verizon waiting for the release. (I'm just glad the reason my current phone wasn't working was because he was secretly switching my info- I was sweating it out having to tell him I broke yet another phone!) I'm the reason they sell insurance on everything.

 Nick had his pine wood derby on Valentine's- I have to say I was annoyed by this fact. Not because we had some big plans but because I would have rather had a nice night home with my whole family than celebrate at the derby. We decided to split up on Valentine's- Bob would take Nick out to dinner and to the derby(thank God) and I would take Parks to dinner and watch "Furry Vengeance" for the millionth time (to this Bob was giving thanks). Enter the humiliating part of the evening-

Parks decided he wanted Chinese for dinner. I called ahead so we could just bring it home and I could eat it in my casuals (still haven't broken the shameful rut). When arriving I saw there was no one at all in the restaurant, I thought, How lucky we are to be able to just pop in and out. Well in a few short minutes I was wishing for lots of people to suddenly descend upon the place-or for a small, no injury causing meteor to slam into the place-anything to take the focus off of my 5 year old's filterless mouth. This child just says whatever he thinks and has not mastered the ability of whispering his thoughts. As I was paying and the owners were all right around us ( a mom, grandma, 2 girls and a boy) Parker says, (VERY LOUD) "I like the food they make better than food of America but (and at this point he takes his fingers to pull his eyes at a slant) I don't like their eyes better, can they see?." I was frozen in time. I looked at them and they looked at me. I'm in my brain willing myself to say something-anything. I offered up a mumbled, lame apology and hurried out to the car. We then marched right back in and Parker delivered his own apology. I spent the ride home over lecturing on differences and why we don't point them out. Then I called Bob and told him we need to start spending more time in the city.

As we curled up to watch the movie I realized my uncensored pumpkin had a fever. I wish I could blame his candidness on fever induced delirium. That's what I get for dodging the derby. Life lessons.