Chick's

I love to talk to Daveskins mid-morning, on my days off.  He says that he calls to report his undying love and affection. I think he calls to see if I am already napping, and often, what I could possibly be concocting for dinner. He has been a great sport about our eating habits over the last 7 months, but I can sense his dread when I have a few days off in a row, because I love to cook and experiment with lots of new healthy foods.

This morning was no different. I was making a big batch of peanut butter stuffed dates, which are then covered with extra dark chocolate and sprinkled with sea salt, (seriously to die for, recipe here, you'll have to scroll down) when he called. I should have just told him I was making peanut butter cups, but he heard dates and all bets were off. The conversation ended in a hurry, but not before he casually mentioned that we ought to take the kids to get their valentines and just go out to dinner tonight............... Hmm.

You can actually buy Valentines in Kamas, but we headed to Heber so we could hit Don Pedros. Everyone but Dawson was pumped, and he carried on about how much he doesn't like Don Pedros even though he eats everyone under the table when we go there. We passed Chicks Cafe on the way and Dave mentioned he hadn't been there forever, which could actually be true, because it is approximately a thousand years old. My Grandpa Dick owned and operated the diner before my Mom was even born, and it has changed hands a time or two since then.

We got our valentines, and then decided we would give Chicks a try. The boys, and I mean all three of them, were in heaven. Dawson ordered the fish, his favorite, and was so pumped that all the dinners came with soup, and salad, and a scone with honey butter. Dawson is very competitive and decided that he was going to out eat Dyl, which is no hard feat, and started with gusto.

Before the food was even close to being gone, we were all stuffed. Dawson was audibly moaning about how full he was and had stretched out on the booth as far as he could go. Dyl got a little twinkle in his eye after hearing Daws say that he wasn't going to stop until Dyl did.

Dylan would say, "Yep, I'm pretty full." but then take one french fry and munch on it for 10 minutes. This got Dawson all worked up and he would take ten bites to Dyl's one. The more Dawson moaned the brighter Dyl's eyes got, and he would keep saying, "I guess I will be done after this one fry." Dawson was in full miserable competition mode and didn't stop to realize that he had already eaten five times as much dinner as his little brother.

We finally intervened when Dawson started Lamaze breathing techniques in order to finish off his scone, while Dyl ate 'one last fry'. It was a great night and we laughed a lot. It is funny that you just never quite know what is going on in Dyl's head. We were talking over dinner about something entirely unrelated and Dyl offers up, "I wish I owned two servants that would just feed me cantaloupe while I laid there." And then right back into his own little world he went.

We were a little late getting home, so when we turned down our road I told the kids I wanted them to run upstairs and get ready for bed. Poor Dawson said that there was no way he would be able to run, that maybe he would have to roll inside. Dyl knew exactly what he was talking about and said, "Yeah, I can't wait until my body takes care of all this food and turns it to poo and gets it out of my body." We thanked him for the graphic reminder of what was to become of our chicken fried steak, and called it a night.