Madison Higa was recognized as a Citizen of the Quarter this morning. Yay! Other than verbal congratulations, she’s been awarded a 24-case of IBC root beer.
Mad was one of many students recognized for various successes today. I watched my daughter walk to her principal, accept her award, and stand in line with her fellow 1st grade Citizens of the Quarter. Would it have killed her to smile? You’d think so. She takes these things very seriously. I thought that maybe winning such a prestigious award would coax a thin grin out of her, but nope. It wasn’t until later when we posed for pictures that she let out that Madison smile. Congratulations, Madison! Your mother and I are very proud of you!
Madison returned to class and Lynnette and I set out on Date Day. The original plan for Date Day centered on The Avengers: Age of Ultron, but we couldn’t find a theater showing the movie at a convenient time for us. I’ll give you one guess what Date Day turned into after that. That’s right, feeding my beautiful pregnant wife.
She spent her last few conscious moments ogling pictures of the food from Ethel’s Grill. We were going to eat lunch there, movie or no, so we just headed there straight after Mad’s assembly. As we approached the restaurant, Lynnette said “Please, Philby, be a provider for your wife.” What this means, basically, is Please find street parking so that we can eat at this place that my heart is inexorably set upon. She said the same thing the other day before we visited Lucy’s Lab Creamery.
We were both pleased with the meal. Fair prices for a lot of food, and the only complaint I have is that their cola comes in blue cans rather than red ones. We weren’t even ten minutes away from Ethel’s when Lynnette wondered out loud, “What’s for dessert?”
The answer to Lynnette’s existential question was Rainbow Tea Stop. But before we wound up there, we hit up Chef Zone near the airport. I read about Chef Zone, a food and food service wholesaler, on a local woman’s blog. Chef Zone’s got a lot of really cool stuff: bubble tea components; barrels of fried chicken mix; stacks of microwavable takeout containers that would send Karen Higa off into Nirvana; and cola in red cans.
The best part of Chef Zone is the “Chill Zone”, a refrigerator about a quarter of the store big. It’s so cold that they’ve got insulated jackets hanging on a rack right outside of the entrance. “The Chill Zone is a place where couples attracted to each other go to ‘chill’ and maybe do a little more, even…” I said to Lynnette and I draped my arm over her shoulders. “Pfffttt!” she said and shoved me off. Alas, Date Day. Anyway, the coolest (pun intended, pun intended, pun intended) part of the Chill Zone is the spaceship doors that rise from the floor level some 15 feet overhead. It makes a futuristic, spaceship-y sound, the kind you’d expect on Star Wars, Star Trek, and most definitely Galaxy Quest. Membership is free and it’s worth a look, if for nothing else than seeing if you can man up in the Chill Zone with a jacket. Look, I thought I was doing pretty good and then a I saw a guy rocking a tank top. This is why I can’t be an alpha-male.
Irony Alert: Last night as I brushed my teeth I said “I didn’t get sick all year.” It was hot in our bedroom last night and so I spent part of the night with the fan on. I woke up this morning with a sore throat. It has escalated to a fever and body aches. I have Airborne, Tylenol, and after dinner, I’m going to take a long hot shower, some Comtrex, then pass out. I’m going to the beach tomorrow.