We went out for dinner tonight at a restaurant that was much more expensive than we expected. We had looked at their menu online, which listed items ranging from $10 to $15, but when we got there everything was at least twice that expensive. I think this restaurant has a pretty good gimmick going, lure them in with false advertising and then see if they’re bold enough to get up and leave after they look at the real menu.
At any rate, the food was good, and we decided to share a dessert. The waiter brought us a tower of chocolate waffles with Bailey’s Irish Cream ice cream balanced between them. Everything was smothered in fresh cream, strawberries, and almonds. As we dug in, Greg said, “We could eat this as a breakfast meal.”

“Yeah, right,” I said.

“It’s got waffles and strawberries,” Greg said, trying to convince me this was the breakfast of champions.

Umm, sure Greg … chocolate waffles and a big scoop of ice cream. That will really get you moving in the morning.

The Tooth Fairy lives in my house. Really, he does. You probably thought the fairy was a girl, but you were mistaken. The fairy used to leave change all over the house even though I wasn’t losing teeth (thank goodness!). I collected the change and deposited it in a jar, and once in a while I carted the jar to the bank. I sometimes became frustrated with the fairy because he would leave two pennies sitting on the kitchen counter, another nickel on my nightstand, and a dime in the office. Couldn’t he at least leave the change in one place?

The complaining is over though. The Tooth Fairy must have come into some money because he has started leaving dollar bills scattered around the house … sometimes multiple dollar bills in one location. I like paper money. Instead of the jar, I’m stashing the money in my wallet. I’m just waiting to see what the Tooth Fair does next.

Hey, Tooth Fairy! Have any tens in that magic fairy bag?

As I dropped Greg off at work this morning, he leaned over and kissed me. Then he reached to the floor to grab his …

his purse?

I don’t know why Greg grabbed at my purse. I guess the cute little pastel stamps on it got to him. He had to have it for himself.