Yesterday, Ben was in charge of coming up with something fun for us to do. Does that sound weird, that someone has to be in charge of coming up with something fun for us to do, as if our lives our filled with drudgery and sorrow? They’re not really, but take last weekend for example. One or more of us was constantly busy doing shit like helping a friend move, going for a run, going to the gym, cleaning the house, going grocery shopping, going to the beer store, etc. All of a sudden it’s Sunday night and you’re all, wait what, the weekend is over and we have to go to work tomorrow and where’s the fun?!
So this weekend, there had to be at least one fun thing. Matters were complicated by the fact that it was pretty cold out and we don’t have big wads of cash to spend.
Ben suggested that we walk to the Great Divide Tap Room to have a beer. This sounded good. We packed up a few things for Soren (including markers and paper in response to the “What the hell is Soren going to do at the Great Divide Tap Room?” question). We had a nice, scenic walk past Curtis Park and down Arapahoe and I briefly ooohed at the arepas cart outside the tap room. (I’ve had arepas exactly once in my life, and it was at a restaurant in Chicago [Wicker Park/East Village-ish area?] a friend took me to a long, long time ago. The restaurant [Colombian? I wish I could remember the name.] had no menu and the chef just made whatever he felt like making but he wasn’t snotty about it and totally hooked us up with the most awesome, vegetarian meal, like, ever, in part, I suspect, because my friend, who by the way was smokin’ hot, went there all the time and he was probably secretly in love with her. I wonder whatever happened to her. She was cool. Also here are more commas because this aside didn’t have enough already: ,,,,,,)
Unfortunately, the tap room, which is tiny, was packed and probably not really toddler friendly. By then I was getting that light-headed hungry feeling (and already forgot about arepas) and also our timing was terrible because the Rockies game (which I’d turned off innings ago because they were getting killed) wasn’t over but apparently it was so bad everybody was leaving anyway so it was like, oh crap, everything is going to be packed. We settled on Blake Street Tavern anyway, because it was close, we like it, it’s very kid friendly, and we didn’t think it would be too crowded because who in the hell is really at a Rockies/Pirates game on a crappy day, anyway.
On the way we passed Hi Rise, which wasn’t open, and I reminded Ben that we have to go there for waffles soon. They’re my Twitter pal and vegetarian friendly.
At Blake Street, we settled into a table (it wasn’t crowded) with a colorable place mat and some crayons. Ben and I had a beer (FYI they are phasing out their Flying Dog selection now that Flying Dog is no longer local) and Soren had water. We shared an order of hummus. We also chatted with some peeps who had a 20-month-old daughter and were so cool we’d love to hang out with them sometime but Ben and I are both completely incapable of closing the deal on random new friend pickups (it’s so much more complicated than dating or maybe we’re just not good at it).
The best part of the day was walking home, because Soren acquired a new word. (It’s funny how physical development, which seems to come easier to Soren, has these big milestones, like learning to crawl or learning to walk, and verbal development at first is just a gradual, little stream of new words that eventually, I suppose, becomes a babbling brook or some such if you want a tortured metaphor and then a full-on ocean of talkity talk.) The word was “tree!” and it comes complete with its own exclamation point (!) because it’s so exciting. As we walked up Blake Street, each time we passed a tree, Soren yelled, in the cutest, high-pitched babyvoice you’ve ever heard, “twee!” He also made up his own sign for “twee!” This involves throwing up his arms with the fingers on his right hand all extended and the fingers on his left hand forming an L. Every time we passed a tree: “Twee!” Arms up! Hands in proper formation! (Full disclosure: Sometimes his interpretation of “tree” was overbroad and included utility poles but I’m not gonna hate.) Ben and I said “tree!” along with him until eventually we ran out of trees for a while (but don’t fret, by that time, even though we each had only one beer, we had to “pee!”).
It was fun.