We eat out a lot. Marin knows most of the restaurants in our town by name and the people that work there know him by name. I don't know if that is cool or sad. Probably a bit of both.

Tonight, we went out for steak. Actually, Matthew wanted the steak. Marin and I were undecided. But, let me get back to my story.

Matthew ordered a steak with blue cheese crumbles on it. When the steak came out, it had some sort of green paste on top of it that the wait staff said was blue cheese. Uh, no, that's not blue cheese. When it was put down at our table, the conversation went something like this....

Matthew: (too stunned to speak, looking down at the goop on top of his steak).
Me: "Dude, I don't know about that...."
Marin: (said at full volume in the best redneck twang he can muster...)
"That's nasty!"

O.k., I lost it. I laughed so hard I thought I was going to die. I could not breathe. Matthew is humiliated beyond belief at this point and I'm hyperventilating.

Marin, who has just used the word "nasty" for the first time in a sentence could not be more proud of himself. Since the word got such a positive reaction out of mommy, he keeps repeating it, louder and louder. Matthew sinks lower and lower into the booth. I am in tears at this point.

And, then, Marin throws in a "That's gross!" just for good measure. It was priceless. I gave Marin a high five and Matthew threatened to leave. Good times all around. :)