Zoe woke me up for Father’s Day today (so much for sleeping in) to give me the card she had made for me at school. One passage from it leapt out at me:

“I wish you would quit your job.”

Traveling for work sucks sometimes.

Beth and I went out on the motorcycle to a new sushi bar tonight. (Well, new to us — it’s apparently been there for years.) Good stuff, we’ll be back. At the end of the feast I told the chef I wanted one more piece of sushi and asked him to choose for me. I do this frequently and the results are mixed. I’ve had sushi chefs give me some really weird shit this way, but tonight I scored big-time. He made me something I’d never had before: seared toro soaked in soy sauce.

Oh. My. God.

It’s 1:20 a.m. and I’m in boxers and dirty socks, but if the phone rang right now with him asking if I wanted another piece, I’d be out the door like a shot. I wouldn’t even stop for shoes.

Before they gave us the check, Beth and I guessed what the total would be. Beth guessed $45, I guessed $134. Total: $140. Ouch!

But, man, that seared toro… I’m drooling now. Poor and drooling.

You so want to be me.

Overheard at a backyard BBQ this afternoon, an adult yelling across the yard to a group of children:

“Hey! Don’t put nail polish on that lizard!”