Restaurant Wars

We've been having some restaurant confusion in our family lately.  We go out to eat with relative frequency, and my children can recognize most restaurants and businesses by their sign or store facade. 

When it comes to stores, the ones we visit the most are never confused.  Target, Walmart, Kohls, JCPenney, Menards.

But for some reason, both Cael and Graham have been having a difficult time retaining the appropriate names of our area restaurants.  And although you might think that by now I wouldn't be surprised by my boys' shenanigans, they have continued to surprise me. 



"Mommy, when are we going to see the monsters again?"

"What monsters?"

"The MONSTERS, Mom.  Those dirty monsters in the water at 'Red Monster'."

"Oh, do you mean at 'Red Lobster?"

"That's what I said, Mommy!"

That one was cute.  I could even overlook the blatant denial of his mistake because his slip was kitschy enough to give him a pass.  But sometimes the boys' mistakes are simply confusing.

"I think we should eat at Mindy's house!"

"Cael, I don't know a Mindy."

"Yes you do.  We ate there one time.  At Mindy's house!  And she made burgers!"

I actually sat back for a moment to ask myself if I did, in fact, have a friend named Mindy that I'd simply dropped from my memory because my brain was too bogged down with memorized Dora The Explorer dialogue or lyrics to "cheeky" Thomas The Train ditties.  And even though I was pretty confident that I was right about this one, the evidence-- the fact that Cael knows the exact whereabouts of the television remote, or can recall the stitch pattern of the shirt he wore on Tuesday, January 16, 2010-- gave me reason to pause.  But alas, there was no Mindy to be found in the recesses of my mind.

"Cael, we don't know a Mindy, and there is no restaurant called 'Mindy's."

"You don't remember her, Mom?  She had red hair and they made good chocolate ice cream in the yellow cups."

"Are you talking about Wendy's?"

"That's what I said, Mommy!"

It was clear that I'd have to be more discerning when analyzing their daily banter.  Maybe I could pick up on a clue that would help me decipher their conversations.  Unfortunately for me, Graham was next to strike.

"Boys, where should we eat tonight?" 

"McDonalds!"

"Nope, Cael, let's try and choose a place that has real, good food and not just a plastic play yard.  Graham, where would you like to eat?"

"My fav'rite place is Damnit City!"

"Excuse me?" 

"Yep.  That 'damnit' place!"

"Watch your mouth, baby.  Cael, do you know what he's talking about?"

"Duh, Mom.  He's talking about Granite City."

"OH!  Of course."

There's nothing cuter or more novel than a toddler audibly swearing because he just really, really wants quality chicken strips.

"Graham, did you mean that you want to eat at 'Granite City'?"

"Ugh, Momma.  Dat's what I said!"

Of course it was.  Any more attitude and I'm feeding them to the "monsters".