My favorite is.....neither of you.

I really don't agree with people who say they don't have a favorite child. I always like one more than the other.

Last night we went to dinner to Ruth's Chris for my dad's 65th birthday.  It was my parents, Todd, my grandmother, and Scott, the girls and I. We were seated at a round table in the middle of the room with smaller tables surrounding us. Great. My parents and grandmother got there first so they were already seated, and there was a high chair for Olivia. The way everyone positioned themselves at the table forced me to sit between my grandmother and Olivia, with Emma on the other side of Olivia. Good freaking god. Trying to keep Olivia quiet and busy was a job all in its own. However, my grandmother kept saying in her loudest voice that she couldn't see the menu...so I was subjected to helping her. As well as, entertain Olivia, figure out what Emma will eat, and what myself, the vegetarian, will eat at the steakhouse chain whose menu is not the same as it is online.

So I'm helping Bonnie figure out what she wants to eat, and after she repeatedly yells that "Ooh...that's expensive!" finally I decide she is getting the stuffed chicken. I tell her that's what she's getting, it's only $20 and, frankly, she'll eat anything. Fine. She's done.

Or not. She keeps looking at the stupid menu and making comments about what she wasn't able to see 5 minutes ago.

"You're having the stuffed chicken remember?"
"Oh yeah, I know. I don't even like steak." Which is a lie.
"Do you want steak?"
"No...I'll have the chicken."
"Okay, close your menu and stop shouting."

Olivia, meanwhile, is a maniac. She is yelling, laughing very loudly, and demanding attention by everyone around her. Not in a terrible way...the people around us were (drunk) and amused by her. She is charming with her big dimples and happiness, unless you're her parent at a restaurant with stuffy people...except for the drunk ones.

So while I'm doing everything besides standing on my head to entertain her, Scott is across the table from me sitting next to his boyfriend (my brother) and they're both watching me. And doing nothing. I really want to flip both of them the finger, but my hands are tied at the moment.

We finally get dinner, and after we eat, Scott asks if I want him to take Olivia. Oh...no....this is great...I'm having SUCH a lovely time....why would you ever think that? Come closer so I can stab you with this fork without anyone seeing.

On the drive home I decide he can have Olivia and I'll take Emma.

And then today happened. And I really don't like any of them. Emma thinks she knows karate because the kid in her class told her he's a black belt and taught her how to fight. She starts off every spar by sticking her thumb in her mouth and then punching her fists together. And then the attack.

"Who taught you to do that?"
"Roger. He said that's what you do."
"I think Roger is lying to you."
"No, he's a black belt."
"I think he's a nothing belt."

I told her if she attacks me one more time I'm going to punch her in the face. Inappropriate, I know. I know because now she keeps threatening to punch me in the vagina.