The Lenten season is upon us again, so that means it’s time for our annual trip to St. John Vianney’s for the first fish fry of the season. A couple of us were able to get there early to get in line (when it only wrapped around the foyer once). There was plenty of random picture-taking and beer flowing up and down the line, and then more than enough carbs and fried fish to go around once we finally sat down. I somehow wound up behind the mike up front when I put in a request for Sweet Caroline, so that meant I led the audience in the “bah bah bah” chorus, which turned out to be the only part of the song I really knew by heart. Mark was lucky enough to walk away with some meat this year, while the rest of us practiced balancing objects on our heads to make sure we hadn’t had too much fun to drive home safely. A bunch of our friends came in late and had to spill over to the next table before we said goodnight.
In other news, my mom and dad have finally found a new place to live here in Nebraska and signed a contract on a new house. It’s actually just a block or two away from our own house, which means Grandma and Grandpa Johnson will be within easy reach. They close at the end of the month, and then they’ll have their very first house guests — my Uncle Ben and Aunt Carol.
In the meantime, Vivian and I are still taking full advantage of our live-in babysitters. On Monday, after having some Irish food at home, we dropped by Mike and Merinda’s house for a little St. Patrick’s Day cheer. Vivian had a ginger beer and we did some Lindy Hop as best as we could to unfamiliar Irish music (since none of us knew how to “jig” properly).
Also, Hannah apparently likes caviar.