Dinner With Friends

I'm starting to understand why my parents only took us out to dinner once or twice a year. I looked over tonight to see Claire eating her chow mein without the use of "the middlemen" (read: hands).





Sometimes the hands were employed.





At least Claire was happy.





Ironically, that wasn't the most embarrassing part of the evening. The most embarrassing part was when Ella spit her chicken out of her mouth and declared in a loud voice, "Don't worry. I'm not throwing up. I'm just spitting out my chicken because it's too chewy."

-- Post From My iPhone