is WAY harder than any accidental freefall into vegetarianism ever was.  REALLY. Much harder. Not sure this is a summit I can reach. And you wouldn’t really think it would be that way… right? What a not-so-lovely surprise.

So I thought okay. The last foray into Meat Land was a hasty little jaunt without a roadmap. (oh shut UP, I’ve always been bad at analogies, and let’s just call it part of my charm. snort.)

So. I thought okay, salmon… right?  Good idea! Are you with me, there, Geekwif? (Geekwif TOTALLY understands this, and has been there, AND is my hero not just for always finishing NaNoWriMo, but for clawing her way back up the food chain SUCCESSFULLY. I need to be more like her.)

Mike wanted to try a hibachi restaurant that night, and salmon was on the menu, and all of that was going to work out SO well. Yuh huh. That was… hmm. Well. Today is Friday and that was… Wednesday. Yes. And everything seemed to go pretty well.

I grabbed Seth-4yr before he dove headfirst into an indoor  koi pond on our way to the table. That’s always good. And Caden-5yr spilled clear soup all over both of us but that was my fault for flicking ‘fieldgoals’  with him, using a wadded up paper straw wrapper. And then we hit heads. Pretty hard.  Flicking fieldgoals at the table is a dangerous sport.

The hibachi chef came out and made lots of noise and fire and then he squirted water at the fire but sort of unintentionally/totally intentionally squirted it all over my mom and Seth-4yr. And don’t get me wrong – my mom…? VERY funny lady. She has a great sense of humor. But it’s not really the sort of sense of humor that says, “spray me with water and I’ll laugh,” you know…? It’s a lot more refined than that. SHE is a lot more refined that that. (I know, I know. Unlike me, headbutting and flicking paper with the kindergartener. I never said I was classy.) That guy was brave. Or dumb. I was cringing FOR him. But she laughed, and he never had any idea how lucky that made him.

The chef tossed pieces of raw zucchini at Mike, who pretended to try to catch it in his open mouth, but I wasn’t fooled. Mike doesn’t eat vegetables, even if you throw them at his open mouth, and he was probably dodging them on purpose. He caught them in his pocket, though, and that’s more impressive.

The salmon was sweet and I’m not sure quite why. Sugar?  I’m not that big on sweet, but whatever. I had a few bites and gave a lot to Caden-5yr, who ate it until he started finding some pretty big bones in it.  Might I just say…. that was not real appetizing. Before, in my meateating days, it never would have bothered me. But there’s nothing like a few big old BONES in something to remind you of the whole, “HEY! I’m a dead ANIMAL! and these are my BONES!”  thing. And that was gross.

Those few salmon bites…? On Wednesday night? Managed to make me feel quite full and as if i will never need to eat again. It’s been almost 48 hours. Not hungry. Not interested. Not SICK, which is better than last time, but still.  This transition back to Meat Land could take forever.

At the end of the meal the waiter came and Caden-5yr was being a little TOO helpful – trying to overload the guy with things he no longer wanted so that his tray was piled high with various soup bowls and plates, etc. I tried to call Caden-5yr off, but the waiter laughed and said his son is the same way. “You know, whatever I’m doing, he wants to help. Changing the tires, picking up dog poop. Doesn’t matter. He’s there to help.”

I nodded and laughed and stole a glance at my mom, who stopped eating right around the word ‘poop’ and put her fork down. I talked to him about kids and ages and I held it together until he walked away and then slid down in my chair and giggled. Poop is SO not a dealbreaker for me, even if it’s mentioned by a waiter at dinner.

That’s just kinda how it is in this house. Last night, from the bathroom, one kid very matter-of-factly said, “mom? there’s poop in the bathtub with us, and we’re not sure who it came from.” In the tone of voice one might use in saying, “hmm. there is salmon and chicken on the menu and i don’t know which one i’m more interested in…”

I told them which kid it came from – since this seemed a big mystery –  and gave instructions for the cleanup/re-do the bath process. That? No big deal. Although I have no idea how you just don’t KNOW who the pooper is. But whatever. I was on the phone with my cousin, who was all, “EW! Want to call me BACK?” But no. Really. That is no big thing.

The salmon or chicken thing is far more difficult.

***

Thank you, thank you,  CMerie! She was sweet enough to write about my book yesterday!