Holy Stromboli!

As usual, my family celebrated St. Patrick's Day the Sunday after the holiday. The Irish blood in my family brought Corned Beef & Cabbage, potatoes, Irish Soda Bread, Guinness, Harp, and Jameson's... As well as a shrimp cocktail, Caeser salad, cream puffs, and stromboli. Now, stromboli is a classic Italian turnover that I've never eaten before. Weird, right? I thought so too. I live in a neighborhood where I can name a handful of Italian restaurants off the top of my head, but I never once had stromboli. And it was goooooood.

Anyways, onto the dinner table discussion. It started out with classy compliments to my mother's cooking. Oh, I love how lean the corned beef is! The potatoes just melt in my mouth! After we all settled down, a few minutes of quiet eating. Then, my dad started up a story about the time that he and my mom went out to dinner with a new coworker of my mom and his wife. At one point during their night out he took a sip of wine, sat up startled, and half-sneezed half-coughed out his wine all over the table. It was as if someone filled up a mister and sprayed the table with a fine mist. "I don't think I even missed a spot," he said, "I thought we were becoming friends with these people. Oops, not anymore!" Later on, after consuming more than enough wine to make up for what he lost to the tablecloth, he stood up and marched off... Right into the women's restroom.

What a special father I have.