I'm writing this to you while sunning myself pool side. Oh, there's Aldo the young pool stud, who lives to please me, bringing me another margarita.
Gratis. Cause I'm a hottie. In like some weird alternate universe where opposites are true, which is, like, here apparently.
Just in case you were under the mistaken impression that my children were little angels in restaurants and you imagined them sitting quietly cleaning their plates of vegies and saying things like, "Please pass the porridge, Papa" and "May I be excused now, Mumma" in adorable faux British accents and you pictured David and I leisurely drinking wine and feeding each other foie gras with our fingers and me gently tossling his hair while he recounts all the ways he fell in love with me.
Yeah...No.
My kids decided to take their underpants off in the middle of the restaurant and wear them on their heads for, like, the entire meal. 
Nice. 
We were at this tourist trap called Tapas & Tintos on Espanola Way. The meal turned out to be pretty scrumptious and the little tapas plates were just perfect for the kids, who grazed from one plate to the next, trying some things, leaving some, gorging on others. The tables and couches were also low, so the kids just kept walking around the table fingering everything, smelling the new foods and experimenting when things looked inviting.
I think the tapas/small plate concept is a great way to dine out with kids. And I'm thinking about making some of our at-home dinners more in this style. We do a lot of breakfasts this way, sort of a "breakfast buffet" concept, but this felt nice as a relaxing lunch out with the kids. 
And you know, any place that lets you wear your underpants on your head while you eat Croquetas, Salpicon de Mariscos, Necora Tempura, Verduras and one of the best home-made pates I've had in a long time, can't be all bad. 
Wait...Aldo is here with another drink. Mmmmmm...Very nice. Thanks, Aldo.
Which reminds me, we are leaving "The Stripper Shoe Capital of the World" to return to civilization tomorrow. This is my last post by the pool and we are really indulging today.
Next time we talk, you will not catch me dead in a bikini. And Aldo and his attentive helpfulness will only be a distant memory.
Bummer, man.
xxoo YM
8 comments:
I'm meeting Do and his father for lunch today. I would love nothing better than to show up wearing my underwear on my head. But since Do's Dad is one of the only folks in our immediate family who isn't addicted to your blog, he might not get the joke. Bummer.
Okay, so I have mostly been a lurker but the title and that first picture is a killer! I think it should be a new standard for restaurants: will they let you eat with your underpants on your head?
no shirt, no shoes, no skivves...
no service?
Undies have to go somewhere, right? As for tapas, I just had the same epiphany on my blog. Tapas are the perfect kid food!!
Wow, love your kids and any place that allows diners to wear their underwear as headwear.
Do spill on a couple of great lunch/early dinner spots in Miami. In early December we have an 11 hour layover there en route to Buenos Aires. I figure we might do a corny bus tour (if such a thing is available) and catch a late lunch.
Also, safe travels!
You're bringing back a memory from the 60's. This story will make more sense if you are old enough to remember the boufant hair styles of that era. One of my aunts swore by this technique for preserving her boufant "do" while she slept. Step 1. Before going to bed, wrap your hair/head in toilet paper. Step 2. Put a large pair of panties over the whole thing. It worked! That is, if you could wrap your head in TP while laughing. We got to thinking that panties would have a new size beyond S-M-L-XL and it would be "boufant"!
I'm surprised they're wearing full panties and not g-strings. They're in Miami, right?
I love the underwear on their heads! My kids do this and do an underwear gansta rap. I'm so proud!
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