Surprise Dad! Let's Eat!

Before we do Father's Day lets flashback to Mother’s Day. A great day. A superlative family brunch.

            “Would have been perfect,” I told daughter Katy, if only you’d been there. No comment—for a few days, and then I got an e-mail: 

You said something that hit a chord with me ... I'm thinking maybe I'll fly in Saturday before Father's Day and fly out Monday. It's a cheap ticket - $160!

         

I would have just seen you guys, but that makes it all the more fun. I was thinking I could Taxi it from Hobby to Spanish Village, where you will tell Bob you want a late lunch (or anywhere you'd like and only if you guys are free) and when you get there, or I get there, we'll surprise him. Flight lands at noon, so I could be there by 1 at the latest.

What do you think? Can you keep the secret?

 Could I ever? Not real easy, but I did.

Plans for Spanish Village, the world-class enchilada capital of Houston and site of many happy memories from Katy’s kidhood.  Everything was right on track. Late the week before she clued her brother Chris. Yes, he and his crew would join us. What a surprise.

You said it. Saturday morning, Katy e-mails, “Flight delayed.” I cook up a ruse, “Chris and Nancy are running late. . .” He buys it. Finally, it’s cheese enchiladas at around 2, with no Katy and four people trying not to spill the beans. Bob is mildly curious why we’re having lunch today when we’re doing Father’s Day tomorrow. “We got to talking about enchiladas. . .” 

Home again. Text from Katy, “Cancelled. New flight leaves at 3.’

Text from Katy, “On tarmac.”

Text from Katy. “No crew, back in terminal.”

Finally around 5 she’s on the plane. A call, “I don’t want to come to the house. No fun. Meet me at the West Alabama Ice House.” That’s our down-the-street refuge for beer and good, easy goin’ company. “Don’t know how I’ll pull that off, but I will!”

Call just before 7, “I’m waiting for a cab.” Bob’s curious again. “Katy’s bored.” I explain.

Then a few minutes later, “After those enchiladas, we won’t want supper, but I’ve gotta get out of here. Let’s go down to the W. Alabama.” Bob never has to be urged. We’re in the car and headed down the street. If it weren’t over 100 degrees we’d walk.

We walk up to the bar, when a woman touches Bob’s arm, “Sir, may I offer you a beer!”

Surprised? Just a little bit!

The Ice House welcomes all.
It's a friendly place!

Spanish Village--Just as good
the second time around.

Bob models a favorite gift.

The whole crew--Jim and Nancy, Trilla,
Chris, Bob, Katy, Hunter in front.

Bob and his babies
Hunter, Chris, and Katy

Silly family, silly family

Next morning papers and the wait for noon and a family Feast at Feast, another, but newer favorite. The whole gang—this time, Katy included. Feast is a "snout to tail" adventure.

Yummy!

Bob declared he’d never eat again, but by evening—off to another of Katy’s kiddy favorites—the Hobbit Café. The restaurant has moved but the menu is the same, so we indulged in Gandalph and Bilbo sandwiches.

My Gandalph. It's a "slim." Jut
imagine a "classic"!

Monday morning, thank goodness, this time right on schedule, Katy heads back to Atlanta. A happy lass leaving a mighty happy dad!

Bye, Daddy. I love you.