On Friday, I took Beth out for lunch. She wanted a 1/2 and 1/2 cake for her birthday (cheesecake and baklava), so I did the next best thing to that impossible baking task. I took her out to a Greek restaurant for baklava and baked a cheesecake to eat with her friends.
She's getting to be such good company, contributing to conversations and making jokes. And she can eat like a teenager. Well, I told her that I'll have to give her away for the teenage years because she'll be impossible to keep fed.
Together we ate almost all of this food. When she was done, she sat back, looking full and satisfied. But she hadn't ordered the baklava yet.
It came with two forks because the waitress assumed we'd be sharing the massive piece of syrup-y goodness. That wasn't the Birthday Girl's plan actually, but she did need both forks to scoop it all up.
And then used a spoon to make sure none of the stray walnuts would be wasted, or the sticky honey.
There were no think-of-the-poor-children-in-Africa lectures to be had on Friday.