I hope everyone had a wonderful 4th of July! We did! My classy family and I went to the beach to celebrate the birth of our country and my birthday!

July 2nd

As soon as we got to the beach, we tumbled out of the car, apologized for all the angry things we said to each other during the grueling 2hr ride, and ate pizza.

I don’t care if this makes me a shitty parent but…EVERY restaurant needs a TV at the table! Our kids were so into SpongeBob that Brian and I could actually have a conversation. Problem was we forgot how to converse, so we just stared at each other until it became uncomfortably weird and my drink glass was empty.

July 3rd

The next morning we went out for my birthday breakfast (Yes, I said my birthday breakfast because it’s my favorite meal of the day). Now before we go any further, here’s something you need to know about me and my “going out” breakfast- I must have pancakes AND poached eggs with wheat toast. And if I don’t get these things, well, you might as well shit in my coffee.

So anyway, we went to this cute little bistro, I opened the menu, and…WTF? Five items on the menu? No pancakes? No ala carte eggs? Breathe, Kim. You can do this. Ok, they have french toast, you can work with that.

Waiter: Can I take your order?

Me: Yes. I don’t see any eggs. Can I get a poached egg, by any chance?

Waiter: I’m sorry, no.

Me: No? Really?

Waiter: I’ll double check. (leaves and comes back) Sorry, the chef said no. It’s a small kitchen and they don’t have room or time to boil water.

Me:….

Waiter: Maybe a scrambled egg?

Me: What about sunny side up? That way it’ll be gooey like poached. He does have a pan on the stove, right?

Waiter: I’ll check with him again (leaves and comes back) Yes, he says he’ll make you a sunny side up egg.

After waiting about 30 minutes, (THIRTY MINUTES, PEOPLE!) the waiter stood in the center of the room and made the following announcement, “I’m sorry everyone but the chef had a stroke so you won’t be getting your meals.”

He then stuck his head into the kitchen window, pulled it back out and, pointing to us, said, “The only table getting their meal is that table over there” The whole restaurant turned in our direction. “Don’t worry, he’s finishing your egg right now”.

I detected sarcasm.

 
These were my thoughts, in order of appearance:

1. Oh my god! He’s having a stroke!

3. Damn it, I bet he’s overcooking my yolk.

No, I’m not proud.

But as it turned out, my yolk was cooked perfectly. However, I had mixed feelings while eating it, kinda like wearing a really awesome dress made by child laborers.

PS- Brian wouldn’t let me take a pic of the ambulance. He said it would make us look bad. As if we didn’t already.
 

Later that night, I had a wonderful birthday dinner with my family…but my bad karma almost set the restaurant on fire.

July 4th

We had great seats for the beach’s annual 4th of July parade.

There were lots of floats (trailers with crepe paper taped to them), local marching bands, military veterans, fire engines, etc., and they all threw things at us…hard things.

Really? Pegging me in the face with a Jaw Buster? Yes, the irony is amusing.

After the parade, we laid on the beach for a few hours then we headed back to the house to unwind…until Brian brought out his surprise.

Apparently he made a little trip to the grocery store and purchased some fireworks. THIS from a guy that won’t let me program our coffee maker because it requires being plugged in while we sleep.

Me: Do you know what it’s going to do?

Him: No, but it can’t be that bad, right?

Me: Are there any directions?

Him: Yeah, but they say “Light Fire Wok and Run”.

Me: Made in China?

Him: Yup.

What you can’t see here is that the wind is blowing to the left, sending a huge smoke cloud to the neighbor’s deck, while they eat dinner with their guests.

Brian felt so horrible that he rushed over to their table and started fanning the smoke away with a beach towel…that we had used…in the sand.

After dinner, we returned to the beach for the fireworks. Ana was really nervous about the noise so I brought along her noise cancelling headphones.

Shortly after this pic, the fireworks started and Ana insisted that she needed to use the potty, which meant walking for 3 blocks to get to the center of town. And miss the fireworks? Oh, no sister! Instead, I plopped her ass down in some nearby pine needles. Turns out she didn’t need to go after all. Stinker was just trying to get out of the fireworks. How manipulative! I’ve never been prouder.

Happy Belated Birthday, America!

PS- I called the next day and checked on the chef. They said he’s doing fine but I’m to never come back again.

I’ll love you forever and ever if you click the banner below…you do want my love, right?