I’m not sure if I mentioned this previously, but H’s brother “S” is here for the weekend and we’ve been trying to pack a lot of things into the last few days. So, my typical weekend of wearing PJs and not going outside before 4 p.m. has been replaced with (a) frantic Friday morning clean-up, (b) eating out and doing “fun activities,” and (c) feeling like a nine-hundred-year-old grandma because all I really want to do is take a bubble bath and then a nap.
But thankfully I managed to squeeze in three hours of beautiful wonderful fantastic shopping before the boys arrived. I scored a ton of basics on sale (and a few not-on-sale) so now I have the foundation for cute outfits all fall. I also bought a pair of those Old Navy super skinnies everyone has been talking about and, even though I went two sizes up so I didn’t feel ridiculous, they are pretty cute for only $19. I bought the khaki color and think I can blend them in as work pants with a fancy top and blazer. I also bought a bright green corduroy skirt, and now I feel like a rock star.
Okay, but back to the real story. Friday night was dinner at Founding Farmers (Montgomery County). Which started out in a weird half-argument between me and H because I recommended we go to Farmers & Fishers on the G-town Waterfront and didn’t believe H when he said they had a location in Montgomery County but it turned out that we were talking about two entirely different restaurants. So we were both right, only clearly I was more right because I was talking about the restaurant that H thought he was talking about.
Please note: farmers are everywhere.
Once we figured out where we were going and arrived, however, we discovered that all was right in the world because this place was awesome. I mean, seriously, look what we had for dinner:
This is gnocchi on top of beef ragu. Legit delicious.
This is H’s Chicken and Waffles. Too much butter made the waffles soggy, but overall it received high ratings. Although, not as high as my gnocchi (above).
After dinner, we stopped in at Harris Teeter and were very rudely instructed by the checking assistant that we were not following the instructions on the self-checkout appropriately. Even though the screen read “wait for cashier,” it really meant for us to keep pressing buttons to satisfy the self-checkout’s unstated needs. And apparently we were supposed to know that. So now I am boycotting Harris Teeter. And you should too.