Dirty Mondays

The Spring before Gabriel turned 3 we bought our first house. It was love at first site, my now husband and I met in the middle of the house, each of us only having seen half and said "this one". Our Realtor brought us our keys and champagne a few seemingly long weeks later.

It was extremely important to me that Gabriel grew up in a house we owned, a house that was our home. Of course, with buying a house comes extra expenses. We had to adjust: a larger monthly payment, water/sewer, the water heater breaking turning our T shaped hallway into a swimming pool.

Money was tight, our expenses had increased, but our salaries had stayed the same. Christmas was around the corner. Pre-school wasn't far away.

I saw it on TV...the advertisement/informational show regarding the research around it got me hook, line, and sinker. I watched the entire 30 minute special. It was a blue and green Little Tikes kitchen. Finally, one that wasn't pink. I found it on-line. It was $150. Plus tax. Plus shipping.

I had not spent that much on one item for Gabriel yet. I debated this in my head. What else would be under the tree if I bought this? What if he never played with it? I wanted that kitchen. He was always playing in the real kitchen. We could put it in the real kitchen, we all spend a lot of time in there. It was perfect. I could pick it up at Little Tikes, I worked near the HQ.

My now husband, being versed in these things, stayed up and put the kitchen together the night before. I did my share...I put the stickers on and put the empty box in the garage.

A sleepy 3 year old Gabriel, woke on Christmas morning and sat on the couch staring at his gifts. Then he saw it. He walked right over to it and started cooking. He loved it! We had to remind him he had other gifts to open...a ton of them at that. Spoiled like his mom, my mom would say.

Fast forward, 5 years. The kitchen, now Gabriel's restaurant, Dirty Mondays, is still in our kitchen. The microwave is covered with stickers. There is a praying lamb by the phone, just in case Gabriel will say if you inquire.

Just yesterday, I ate at Dirty Mondays. They have excellent service and you get a birthday hat, even if it's not your birthday. My bacon was crispy and the eggs were amazing. The menu varies, but you can often get a large meal for only $5. Sometimes dessert is pricey. Sometimes they run out of chicken. Service is always with a smile, especially when you tickle the chef/waiter.

Every now and then the restaurant closes. No reason is ever given. That's when pizza girl comes in handy. Gabriel laughs at pizza girl. Pizza girl is a hick sounding, gum chewing mommy who doesn't pronounce any of her words correctly. "No one wants shoe topping, mom!" Gabriel will laugh. "Who's this ma you keep talkin' about?" I will reply. "I am pizza girl, now you wanna make an order, ya know I have under my nails to clean." "Health code, health code", Gabriel will scream! "Dirty Mondays is open"!

It's still the best $150 plus tax I ever spent.