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Took the kid out for dinner last night to his first Vietnamese restaurant. Originally, we were hot on the trail of sushi, until Elliott (the kid) reminded me (his mother) that he would not eat rice, and since his weekly allowance is way less than two pieces of sashimi, we tabled that idea. Oh…I forgot to mention the part about how I make my fourth-grader buy his own food every week. Your kid gets a new Wii game; mine has to buy his own toro.
So, anyhow, Elliott is crazy insane for Thai food, and now he was begging to try pho, so we sat in front of the computer reading all about pho, looking at pictures of pho and making up words that started and ended with “pho,” which tickled Elliott pinker than Elmo because he realized, almost immediately, just how much fun you can have with the word “pho.” As of 6:30 last night, his new favorite word was “phok.”
But that was before he saw a real bowl of pho at the restaurant where the above photo was taken and decided that he’d rather have a pho-king noodle bowl instead.
Where were we noodling around?