Originally uploaded by dsmithsteeves
Last night we all felt well enough, barely, to head out for dinner. We went to Pizza Bella, a Crouch End restaurant recommended by our babysitter David. This is a new fav of ours (sorry Mauro!), with pizza that is the best I've ever had, accompanied by outstanding service by people who seem to really like small children. For dessert we ordered the "Bella Fantasie" for us all to share, which is a huge mound of ice cream, brownies, whipped cream and fudge sauce, topped off with a sparkler much to the children's delight. It came in this huge goblet which felt the size of my head.
So the dessert was worth noting, but the behavior surrounding dessert is what is blog-worthy. Let's just say this - I will never share dessert with my three favorite men ever again. I would give up my life for any of them, but I will not share my dessert. Because I don't get any. Twenty seconds into the goodies it was all out treat warfare. Spoons clanging and testosterone (clearly I don't have enough of this hormone) driven jockeying for the most advantageous position. Not only did my three year old box me out (behavior praised by his father) he then crawled up and sat ON the table next to the dessert so he could reach it better. My husband, who usually cringes at being conspicuous, not only allowed this but rather seemed quite proud. I finally gave up, dropped my spoon, sat back and waited for it to all be over. Per Dan's suggestion, Elliot and Quinton finished it off by slurping the rest of the melted goo up through their drink straws. I'm not sure if I was appalled or thoroughly entertained. Probably both.