8.01.2008

Guess who....? Some are Elliot, some are Trae. Can you guess who is who?

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Little Boy 1 and Little Boy 2 look so much alike....I wonder what Little Boy 3 will look like?

Date Night....

We started off at Fratello's, a fancy restaurant on the Fox River. The atmosphere was awesome, Jason's spicy beef mandarin stir fry was awesome, my brushetta chicken on something resembling tapioca not so awesome. I do plan to go back and order something different, as I really loved the style of the place. Next we headed to WIR for the races, and that's where the night got interesting...

We sat about half way down on the wooden benches, to our left was a group of teeny boppers hangin' and trying to impress one another. I guess I should clarify...this "pow chicka wow wow" (I stole this...thanks Jared) chick was trying to impress the two boys in the group, while her friends texted on their phones (probably texting her) and looked on in disbeleif that she was stealing all the attention. She had my attention at least, the moment she stood up, stuck her tiny butt out towards the guys, and showed them the "hole" in her holy jeans. Oh yeah, she got right into it, stick her finger in right at the bottom of her left butt cheek, pulling it out, and rimming around it to emphasize just how big the hole was. Ironically, she didn't point out the rest of the holes in here pants, they were shredded all the way down the front of her legs, you know, like fish gills. I actually cracked up and pointed her out to Jason at this point. He didn't care, he was all about seeing each and every lap those cars made around the track. I just had to see where this was going, as the boys semmed to want nothing to do with her. Both boys looked pre-pubescent to me, although the cigarrettes hanging out of their mouth's seemed to indicate differently. On second thought, the way they smoked them, looking around to see if anyone noticed how cool they were seems to indicate that they were indeed on the brink of puberty. The guys sat there perched on the bench, thighs touching, one metrosexual and one sporty. They seemed to have no interest in any of the girls sitting around them. I did make an observation that they went to the potty together later on...they left their drinks with the group so I know they weren't getting refreshments. Anyhow....this cute little thing decided to bring her A game at this point. She sat there seductively licking her glow-in-the-dark alien jumbo pop right in their faces. Swirling it, sucking it, and then licking it like a puppy dog. I was majorly cracking up here....Jason even asked why I didn't just ignore her but I had to see if she'd be able to make these two "friends" part ways with all her efforts. My lip reading abilities came into play when she batted her eyes at the sporty guy (the less attractive little guy, if you ask me), tapped him on the knee with her sucker and cooed "are you grum-py?" He ignored her, so she turned to his friend and said "why's he so grum-py?" as she put the pop back into her mouth and pulled it out real slow. She finally got sick of trying to seduce these guys to no avail and her and her friends got up and left and I was forced to watch the race.

Races. I get calustrophobic just watching these guys bump and grind each other's cars and do my fair share of covering my eyes at the scary parts. Jason and I (meaning me) decided we aren't going to encourage our kids to get involved in this type of sport. He had some lame arguement about people crashing everyday and no one dying to which I said "what about Dale Earnheart?" He said that's one guy, to which I said one famous guy that we heard about, the rest we didn't since he wasn't a national idol. Anyhow, we got it all straightened out. The last feature of the night, after all the crashes and clean ups, was the figure eight races. As you can imagine, I got very vocal about how idiotic these guys were, speeding toward each other and narrowly missing each other in the middle. Jason was a huge fan, and since no one died there that night I guess I'll admit I enjoyed it somewhat, but I think it's sort of a stupid thing to do. Like why would you purposely drive your car towards someone else's car at high speed and hope you don't crash? What's wrong with a nice sport like, say, volleyball? We left there around 10:30pm, and I had to endure the driving of my wannabee racecar driver husband. We reached 82mph on 441 (it's 65mph) and he decided he should slow down. Good thing to because about a mile up the road was a cop, just waiting for all the men to come home from the races jacked up on adrenaline from watching all the guys get aggressive with each other on the track. We went way to fast (for my liking, he said we were fine) around corners, waited way to long to slow down for stop lights, and went way to fast for speed limits. I finally had to tell him that this night was not going to end with the big bang he was hoping for if he continued this because he was ruining it our night. He shaped right up. We got home and all the kids were in bed. We wished my mom and dad a safe drive home and thanked them for watching the kids. As they were heading out, Trae started crying. Go figure.
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