Cattlemens

(below: 2007)
Ever since I was a little girl, my sweet Grandfather has treated our large family to special dinners at a restaurant called Cattlemen's. It's a western themed steakhouse that claims to be the best in the West and has dishes like "The Sheriff" and "Cowpie Brownie Sundae" and "Desert 'O'asis". On your birthday they bring out silly hay cowboy hats and sing an obnoxiously loud song and the whole restaurant stops and stares.

I remember being about 12 years old and my Mother panicking because she hadn't though about what us kid would wear until that morning. I never understood why she didn't just figure it out before then, but now as a mother, I totally understand. (Have I mentioned that today marked the fourth time in the past three weeks that I've accidentally gone out in public in my slipper?)

Grandpa used to take us out every year to celebrate the "fall" birthdays, then twice a year (birthdays and Christmas) and then we stopped for a bit since all of our individual families had grown rather large.


    (above: 2009, after my Whipple surgery)                                                                    (below: 2010)

Well, a few weeks ago, Grandpa took us all out again. This was the first time that Roman had ever been, and it was so special to have the privilege of taking my boy to the place that I had been taken for so many years. Of course, he refused to nap that morning, was extremely over-stimulated in the loud, flashy restaurant and he wore THE biggest pair of cranky pants I'd ever seen, but it was still special none the less. :)

Life is good.

Comments

[Caitlin]

Love that photo of you and Roman together, so precious. I love family traditions!

[Heather]

Found your blog through Circle of Moms and I love it so much. Your son is adorable.

[Mela]

My dad used to love Cattlemen's. Whenever given the opportunity to go out to eat somewhere, he would always suggest Cattleman's (or Harry's Haufbrau, depending on where we were geographically.) Except, being the contrary vegetarian that I was, I refused to go to either place. For over a decade I made him eat at whatever tofu and hummus joint I currently fancied. Now that I am once again a meat eater I am able to truly understand how much my dad loved me, to subject himself to tofu and salads when what he really wanted was a nice juicy steak. My dad passed away a few years ago, and what I wouldn't give to go back and claim all of those Cattlemen's date nights with him. Sheesh, think of all that free steak I stuck my nose up at!