Today’s theme is all about the recent events in my life. In other words there really is no theme throughout the post. My editor husband is going to have a fit but he’s at spin class right now and won’t see this until later today. I’m breaking the rules. I’m such a rebel. It probably has something to do with the fact that I went to bike night and line danced. Bike night as in the kind with loud pipes not squeaky horns. And lined danced as in bumped into people and pretended I knew what I was doing.
Having teens means not having to get a babysitter. Eric and I can go out whenever we want. We are still getting used to it after years of taking the kids with us wherever we went or arranging for a babysitter, writing pages of instructions and worrying. Now, when Eric and I make plans with our friends, our kids make plans with theirs. Actually, I think it’s the other way around.
When Eric came home from work and said, “Hey, you’re not in sweats!” I knew I needed to dress up and go out on a date night. For the record, I’m usually in workout clothes when he gets home. Not sweats. Our little Cape Coral is changing and we were very surprised to see how popular The Dixie Roadhouse was. People stood in line for miles waiting to get in. Okay, maybe not miles but the line was mega long. The dance floor was packed with people moving in unison to the twang of country music. I have to admit it was pretty cool. When the Electric Slide came on I decided to give it a try. It wasn’t pretty. I learned that when I stare at someone’s feet trying to pick up the moves I don’t notice the crowd of people heading my direction. Suddenly, someone (my husband) is running into me full force because he’s clueless too, hits my drink (Any teens reading this – I was drinking Sprite) which goes flying onto a cowboy with big brown boots. Not a good thing. Cowboys don’t like to wear soda. As it turns out The Dixie Roadhouse offers line dancing lessons five days a week. Now that Eric and I are rediscovering our youth I think we’ll give it a try. That way I can move with the crowd while holding my Sprite and let my inner cowgirl soar. I’ll be the vegetarian cowgirl in vegan boots and maybe even a cowgirl hat. Maybe.
In keeping with my no theme post… Look what Eric made for me and Arielle. Valentine’s eggs in toast. He would have made it for Kai too except it wasn’t one of the five foods Kai eats.
Here’s how it’s made. Please keep in mind that I did not plan to blog about eggs in toast. I saw Eric making it and grabbed my camera. So, please ignore the very embarrassing frying pan that we have had for years. I thought about asking Eric to change pans for the picture and then I remembered to be thankful that my husband was making me a lovely breakfast. I’m a smart wife that way.
Butter the bread and use a cookie cutter to cut out a heart shape. This is sour dough bread. Yummy!
Place the bread in a frying pan. Add the little heart shaped bread too.
Crack the egg and dump it in the center of the heart. Hmm, maybe dump isn’t the right word… pour, delicately place, lovingly direct… let the egg cascade into the heart shaped bread. Cook for a minute or two and flip it over. Cook for another minute or two and it’s done.
Chow down. That’s cowgirl for enjoy the delicacy that is eggs in toast.
And if you’re still reading…
The kittens will be seven weeks old tomorrow and they are doing great. I’m still looking for loving lifetime homes for them.