I was at sushi with the kids, after swimming. There’s a sushi place on the way home from the pool. We’re in Portland, Ore. There’s a sushi place on the way home from anywhere. I’m having what I usually have — shrimps, rice, cucumber salad, green tea. Wacky Girl’s having what she usually has: a nice big bowl of RICE. Wacky Boy’s having what he usually has: water. And he’s complaining about the lack of eclairs and cream puffs. He did agree to try a bite of inari and a bite of ginger.
“Ewww! Hot!”
I’m thinking of the last time my husband and I debated the following topic: Iowa — strengths and weaknesses.
me: “Will there be sushi in Iowa City? Because I eat sushi, like, four times a week.”
him: “Jesus, of course there’s sushi in Iowa! You think that stuff you’re eating is fresh? It’s all frozen.”
me: “No it’s not.”
him: “Yes it is.”
me: “No it’s not but what are you?”
him: “argggggggggggh…”
In walks Chris Cornell. Just kidding! He just looked like the Audioslave Soundgarden guy, this man. Which is to say, you know, cute. He sits at the counter, orders some soup. In Spanish, cuz half the cooks are Hispanic. Then he’s telling them jokes, in Spanish, and they’re cracking up, and I’m thinking, “I barely speak English.” Then they must have gotten his order wrong, because they’re taking back a plate and saying, “Lo siento,” (I’m sorry — I know that much in Spanish. Har.)
And he’s all (in English), “No, bro, it’s okay.” Then the manager comes out, and dude starts speaking Japanese to him. And telling him jokes, too, cuz they were both laughing. Then they hand him another plate, and dude says, “Oh, yeah, mama. That’s the motherlode.” (In English, cuz you know I don’t speak Japanese, either.)
heh heh heh heh heh
, 
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