Indulge and repent

Gordon Biersch, Mardi Gras. Mike showed his club card and we got to sit down ahead of everyone else, ha. I picked garlic fries and crispy artichoke hearts off the plates while Mike and my mom enjoyed their beers. Mike was happy, right at home in his favorite place. "We can't move anywhere without a Gordon Biersch. If we're moving to Seattle, we have to see their Gordon Biersch first to make sure it's as good as this one," he said.

Gavin and I went out into the holiday crowd at Aloha Tower when we were stuffed. We filled a bag with mixed candy at the chocolate shop, and Gavin held the paper bag in his fist while I carried him on my hip. A jazz band was playing, old people tottered to the music, military guys stalked in predatory herds, grumpy parents shuffled their kids through the crowd. All at once the parade started, with pounding and clanking, whistles and hoots. Gavin pressed his fist, still clutching the candy bag, up against his ear as the parade-goers danced by. A woman in a sparkling bikini gave him a strand of beads. He pulled it off indignantly when she turned away and handed it to me. I bounced him on my hip and danced along with the crowd back down to Gordon Biersch. They yelled and crashed through the brewery, and I dropped back down into my seat in front of Mike. He raised an eyebrow at my beads, and I fluttered my eyelashes innocently at him. As the parade made its way through the open patio and the noise faded around the building, I ushered our party-goers to the car and drove home.

And now it is Lent. We subscribe to Lent, more as a novelty than a religious event. We swore off chocolate. I broadened my sacrifice to include all caffeine. Mike tried to swear off getting fat, but I argued that the chocolate was a root cause.

The night was warm, so I kicked off my pajama pants and then spent the entire night dreaming that had no pants on. As I was having murder-mystery dreams, this was not great.