Danny and the Fish & Chips

Sunday night, Paul and I decided to go out to dinner after church. We headed over to Red Robin with Danny in tow. Paul got a burger, and I got fish and chips. When Paul had finished, I handed Danny over to him so I could finish my last piece of fish without a baby wriggling in my lap. As he was halfway across the table, Danny spit up all over my last piece of fish. Not on the fries that I was getting more of, not on the last bite of the other fish, not on the table. On the beautiful, whole, crispy piece of fish. Paul said it was like watching it happen in slow motion. I guess worse things have happened.