So, last night we decided to go out to eat. We knew it was Friday night, but our favorite Vietnamese restaurant I had suggested doesn’t have a long wait.
As we’re getting ready to leave, my hubby says, “You know, I’m not sure I want to drive that far. I’m actually in the mood for something a little closer.”
“Oh, that’s cool. What about that Mexican place just over there? It was really good and not very busy.”
“Well, that’s an Italian restaurant now. And, I’m actually kinda in the mood for Italian. We could go check that out, or we could finally use up some of the gift cards we’ve been forgetting to use.”
I’m always in the mood for Italian, but he isn’t, so I asked him if he was feeling well. He assured me that he didn’t have a fever, so I pulled out the gift cards in my wallet. “Well, we have just over $6 left on this one, and we have $5 on this one,” I told him.
We decided on the closer of the two and off we went.
The parking lot around this particular restaurant is always jammed, mainly because it’s poorly designed, so we never park in there. We always park in the parking lot across the way. The restaurant is next to a mall, and there’s a “street” running through the mall parking lot. It’s not technically a street per se, but it’s busier than a normal driveway.
We park and get Claire bundled up. Daddy picks her up and we all hurry to the restaurant. I’m running ahead of them, so that I can get in to check out the wait. I can hear Claire and Daddy having some sort of conversation, but I couldn’t hear what was being said.
They wait in the foyer as I go into the over-full waiting room. I realize that the wait may be too long, which is no big deal. If it’s too long, we’ll bail and go somewhere else.
The wait is going to be at least AN HOUR. If it were just the hubby and me, an hour is a doable wait. With a toddler, that’s not going to happen.
So, Daddy scoops up Claire and we head back out into the cold.
“Look! Someone lost a shoe!” I say, as I see a cute little black shoe on the street dividing the parking lot and the restaurant. No sooner were the words out of my mouth and my stomach sank. “Is that CLAIRE’S shoe!?” I yelled as I picked it up.
“My shoe! My shoe!” Claire said.
“You know, she was saying something when we were coming to the building, but I was so focused on getting her in the building that I wasn’t really paying attention,” Daddy explained.
“No way! I’m so glad we decided not to stay at the restaurant! Who knows what would have happened to the shoe had we not found it right away!” I said, hoping we would have noticed that it was missing and then looked for it…knowing that it may have been lost forever.
As we get to the car, I realize that my remote keyless entry won’t work. My hubby’s copy of it never works for him, and I always make fun of him. Mine has always worked…until tonight. After trying a few clicks, I run around the car and open the driver’s door the old-fashioned way and get the other doors unlocked.
Meanwhile, Claire is still yelling about her shoe. We’re cold. We’re frazzled. This isn’t the relaxing Friday evening out we’d planned.
We decide to abandon the “let’s use up the rest of our gift cards” idea and go to that new Italian restaurant close to our house.
Just then, we look up and see two fire trucks, the Fire Chief Suburban, two police cars and an ambulance go by. They’re headed the same direction we are.
My hubby turns to look at me and says, “If the restaurant is on fire, we’re going home and ordering take-out.”
“Deal,” I said, wondering what else could possibly go wrong. 
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