We were out later last night than ever before, I’m pretty sure. Somehow after our afternoon chores, we ended up going out to our Goat Mentor’s place – way over in Applegate. It is always a several hour adventure to get there, up the crazy bumpy driveway, deal with the pack of dogs, get to the barn, pick up supplies, hug Sue a few times, watch the boys ride Tonka Trucks down hills, and then drive all the way home.

It was dark by the time we left with a gift of three new baby chicks. It was already 8:30 as we were getting out the driveway. Ben and Bean started asking if we were going to have dinner. We had wanted to stop at a Taco Truck on the way there, and our favorite truck wasn’t where we thought it would be. So, closer to 9:00, we were stopping at a Pizza Place in Medford for a very late night dinner. Our whole schedule was shot already. The boys were kind of climbing the walls.

We ordered our pizza and an appetizer. We were so hungry by this point, that we were starting to be cranky with each other. I went up to find out if the appetizer would be coming out ahead of the pizza, and the staff looked confused. They always time it to come out at the same time, they said. No worries. That totally works too.

Why even call it an appetizer, Scott and I were wondering aloud. The boys wanted to know what appetizer meant. I told them that an appetizer usually comes out before the meal as sort of an Appetite Teaser – to wake up your appetite and let it know that even more good things are on their way.

Then I remembered the other fun phrase, Amuse-bouche, which is just a one-bite type of appetizer. Usually, it is something complimentary from the chef – and it is literally supposed to be something tiny and delicious that amuses the mouth, and tells you that there are really tremendously amazing things on their way to your plate and your mouth.

Of course, it’s French, and it sounds funny.

When our dinner arrived, both boys started taking little tiny bites, and giggling with each bite. A tiny laugh. A snort. A snicker. A hoot. That led to guffaws and outright hilarity. I couldn’t stop laughing at them with their little gleams in their eyes – acting all French and proper, with their pinkies out, eating bite sized jokes and going on and on about how their food was so amusing!

photo from here

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