Recently, I celebrated my birthday. It wasn't a milestone birthday by any means, except Hubby did remember this year. Well, actually, Third Son asked Hubby to pick certain items up at the store for him. While Hubby was doing the requested shopping, it dawned on him why Third Son wanted to get these items. Gotta love him.
Anyway, I was generously given gifts from sweet people. What a surprise, because I hadn't put much thought toward my birthday myself. One of my sisters sent a gift card to Texas Roadhouse, which Hubby loves.
The next day after this gift card was used, Hubby was doing errands and had Youngest Son with him. They were in the proximity of Texas Roadhouse, which is on a street we don't use frequently. Youngest Son immediately recognized the area and said, "Hey! We were over by here last night when we ate at Texas Outhouse!"
Between my last post, about his declaring the rapture would involve toilet paper, and now renaming this restaurant as an outhouse, Sigmund Freud would have had a hay day.
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