Last night Brad did some video work at the Brook so David and I went to dinner together. His choice – Zaxby’s. Not so bad, they have good food. And according to David a really awesome berry drink, which is just cherry Fanta.
We were sitting there playing I Spy, the game of choice at Zaxby’s since they have things all over the walls and he likes to find the most minute detail to spy, which I often can’t find. Did I spell the work minute wrong or is it really spelled that way? It looks just like minute, well, I guess it is. That bothers me. Words that are spelled the same, but sound different. But I digress.
So in the middle of a challenging game of I Spy and filling his tummy with chicken fingers he burped louder than I’ve never heard anyone burp in my life. Well, that may be a slight exaggeration but I promise it was loud – the high school kids sitting near us actually looked at him and laughed.
I glared at him. He KNOWS he’s not allowed to burp out loud in public. At least the boy has manners, he said “Excuse me” after the burp. At home it’s okay to burp out loud…who doesn’t think burping contests aren’t fun?
So he started giggling and so did I. When I gained composure I remind him that if he needs to burp in a restaurant he needs to do it quietly.
He says, “But mom, God is pressing a button that’s making me burp. I can’t stop it.”