Spiked apple juice

Tonight, Grace put on quite a show at On the Border, the Tex-Mex restaurant where we were trying to eat with Rob's parents, who are visiting us for a few days.

As I have thought on many other occasions, "I hope no one is watching this on a hidden camera somewhere."

Whew.

What would have made the hidden camera guy/gal laugh?

Maybe it was when Grace attempted to crush, with a fork, every tortilla chip in the basket.

Maybe it was when she threw a piece of food she didn't like across the table, where it landed somewhere on the back of the seat between Rob and his Mom.

Maybe it was when she hurled herself onto her brother's back, hugging the breath out of him, not once, but four times, each time taking him by surprise. (For the sake of clarity, we were sitting in a semi-circle booth, not in chairs. No one was injured during this stunt).

Maybe it was when she took a bite off the food of several other plates, but none from her own.

Maybe it was when she whacked me in the face (accidentally) with a spoon full of ice cream.

Maybe it was when she kick-stepped her way out of the restaurant, literally marching to the beat of her own drummer.

All of the above led Luke to whisper in my ear on the way out, "They filled her apple juice cup over there at the bar. I think they stuck beer in it."

I don't know what he specifically knows about beer, but I think he might have been right.

Whew.

Jana