Intervention and an Interception
Last night, my mom came to rescue me. I was buried under the ash from what seemed like Mount Vesuvius. My desk had erupted, my patience had spewed and I just needed a break from my new job.

She was taking Gretel back with her and so my Prince Charming decided it would be fun to go to dinner about an hour away to a restaurant we had never tried, but had heard was yummy. It would get my mom an hour closer to home and me away from the computer.

We got seated and Hansel quickly asked the waitress if they had a trash can. I thought this was odd because usually you only need a trash can at take-out restaurants to dump your uneaten food. As soon as I could turn around the waitress stuck out her hand and said, "this is the trash." Before I could bat an eyelash, my son pulled his gum out of his mouth and was about to put his chewing gum in her hand. I squealed and quickly pushed his hand back and yelled, "Nooooooo!" The waitress jerked her hand back before the patty of gum could stick to her thumb. My husband and my mom just rolled laughing. I think it was probably the last time that this waitress volunteered her hand for "the trash."

We had a great time coming out of the dust of the volcanic eruption (at least for me). Now back to climbing out of the ash. Have a great day!

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