Monday, March 16, 2009

a pinch of this

On March 26th, we (The Eleven and the North Park Drive contingent) have reservations for a boutique dining thingy (see above). It takes place at Farrah Olivia which has become our go-to restaurant in the D.C. area. And by “go-to” I’m snaking X’s idea that once you find something that’s so good there isn’t any reason to keep looking. I guess we could try a hundred restaurants in the area in search of nirvana but you just know that at least 90 of them wouldn’t suit our tastes. In that scenario we’d be out thousands of dollars with nothing to show aside from our love of Morou and his joint down in Alexandria. Why bother?

The problem this little date presents is that I’ve been watching Hell’s Kitchen for the last few weeks – the new season plus the entire last season online – and I might lash out, Gordon Ramsey style. What if something shows up at the table and I start screaming “It’s f*&king cold! Come here and touch it! Everyone, TOUCH IT!”; or, “Do you want to go home! You’re a chef!?! You’re f@#king STEALING from people! GET OUT!”, and then proceed to kick the garbage cans and smash plates. What if that happens? I guess it’d be embarrassing. Maybe I’ll take some time off Ramsey before the date. “Madam, are you stupid! You’re a lazy COW!”

Last night the boys handed me a chunk of stapled paper that was apparently some of G.’s homework. They’d been giggling over it for an hour or so as both Otto’s typed away on their mother’s computer. It was a science project about animals – I’m guessing, but I think G. chose shrimp – that’s suppose to cover things like mating habits, physical characteristic, life cycles, etc. Well, they’d come up with a brilliant idea to write a story about shrimp that involved giving a shrimp a family, making up names, bringing in friends and relatives, talking about how grandma and grandpa had ended up as scampi, and myriad other hilarious tales. There was one bit about how father had turned into mother but the kid shrimp still loved Dad (I had to go to wikipedia for that one – see protandric sex change.) What it reminded me of is the idea that if teachers give projects and then allow kids to create something funny and interesting with it, things go much better. Why force an 11-year-old to simply fill out a worksheet? I’d totally give him an A+++ for completing the assignment and making it enjoyable.

Let’s talk about Eli Whitney, there’s some fun.

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