It's commonly thought that routine is good for kids. It creates stability and comfort, giving them security in knowing what to expect. We seem to be King and Queen of routine. Oh, not about naptime. Or bedtime. Or, well, most of the other "scheduled" parts of the day. Of course, weekday mornings require routine to get to work and school on time. Those kiddos now understand that when I need to go or I'll miss the bus, they had better let me go. This is less from an understanding of professional work ethic, as from a deeply rooted sense of awe of any bus, train or plane. Missing the bus is worse than time out in their eyes. Weekends include housework, playing outside, visiting with friends, they now include soccer (a whole other post!), and grocery shopping for the week. And Starbucks. However, there is often one day most weeks when making dinner just isn't feasible. Maybe the chicken expired in the fridge earlier than I expected. Maybe (hypothetically speaking of course) I got on the wrong bus and had to call Fillip to say I was all the way across the valley, and getting on another bus heading back, but please come pick me up at this alternate stop. Hypothetically, this wrong bus had the right number for those of you who might suggest reading that hypothetical sign.
So, about once every week or two we go to our favorite place. It's a little Mexican restaurant that has cheap, plentiful and delicious food. Seriously, going out to dinner is synonymous with going there. We rarely deviate because the reason we are going out to begin with always involves simplifying the evening, and therefore does not include a decision about where to go. The kids love it and rarely leave anything on their plates. They always get the kids mini-burritos usually with rice and beans. They are pretty good about trying new things, but hadn't yet ventured into another item. I had never paid attention to the fact that Fillip always orders their dinners by combo number, rather than name. Tonight was one of those nights when dinner at home wasn't the best option.
On the way over to the restaurant, before we had even discussed our dinner choice, we heard a little Logan voice say "I don't want combo #3." Maybe we need a little less routine.
Oh, and for the record, he ordered and enchilada instead of his burritos, ate the whole thing, and the enchilada from Fillip's plate. Hayden downed both burritos as quickly as any industrial vacuum. That's what we like about our routine.
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