Operation "Extract All Brûlée."
This is just one of my favorite pictures of dad -- I forgot I had it til I looked back in some random Flickr sets.
The story is this: the family were all dining happily at Eastland Cafe, May 2007, for mom's birthday. We had a fantastic evening, a really swell waiter who was (and still is) just the most agreeable fellow, a table outside in the most perfect weather, and icy cold Martinis to boot. Dad even brought contraband bottles of bubbles he had swiped from a wedding he'd played. We ate, talked and laughed our way through the evening until the sky fell dark, candles were illuminated, and the birthday song was quietly sung. Our desserts arrived: Mango Brûlée and Blueberry Beignets. Both were delectable to the eye and the tongue, and we tried to refrain from a swift and total annihilation of the perfect celebratory sweets. Dad, however, had no issue with picking up the brûlée ramekin and making sure the dishwasher didn't have to bother with that one that night.
As socially uncouth as this may have been, and as much as I may have been inclined in the moment to roll my eyes and sigh, this is exactly what makes my dad my dad. He never fails to make us laugh (eventually), and I wouldn't trade him.
