Since Neve is just about eight months old, the bride and I decided it was well past time we took her out to do the restaurant thing. We've got a favorite old school Mexican place, and that looked like the ticket for her first dining out experience. Plus: Dad wanted carne asada tacos. And: we owed a good friend a lunch (and probably a lot more than that -- she can't stop buying Nevie clothes), so we figured we had some backup.
Hey, Sunday afternoon. An outdoor mall that's seen better days. We figured it'd be pretty quiet. Imagine our surprise when we walked into the joint and were confronted by a packed house, a full-on Sunday brunch buffet in progress, several birthday parties, and eight strolling mariachis. We nearly turned tail and ran, but I've got to hand it to the kid. Neve was a champ. Those mariachis were all whistles and screams topped off with a couple of blaring trumpets, and they could have rattled the fillings right out of your teeth if they'd halfway tried (and they were kind of trying today), but Nevie just ate them right up. And they did the same with her -- one of the violin players came over and played "Pop Goes the Weasel" and "Old MacDonald" for Neve while she danced around on Momma's lap. Smiles were traded all around.
So: a good day. My daughter had fun. I had some of that and tacos, too. And I didn't even ask the mariachis to play "De Guello," which is what I used to do before fatherhood mellowed me. Instead, I listened to them play "Como Han Passado Los Anos" and was tempted to ask my wife to dance... but Tia's Canadian, and I didn't want to embarrass her in front of all those mariachis and birthday parties and everything. But it was a moment... and a good one.