That’s the nickname that my sister earned 30 years ago. She is glad to know that she has finally passed the torch….to my husband! I haven’t decided what nickname he will receive but I wont be the one to pick it. That’s because I don’t want to spend the rest of our time in Europe having to be the sole driver. Let’s just say that tram tracks will never be the same, ever, especially if hubby is driving anywhere nearby. After flattening a tire by jumping tram tracks and hubby getting drenched from changing said flat, we changed vehicles and drove up to spend the night in ramstein. Ramstein is the shizz of military bases. They have an awesome mall like complex that houses different shops and restaurants. We ate a positively awful meal at the macaroni grill there but totally enjoyed it. My steak was practically mooing at me and my mashed potatoes were cold but seeing my hubby get buzzed from a girlie pomegranate martini made it great. Only in an American restaurant could you be seated looking like you’d just been dragged from the gutter. That’s how we looked. We’d been up since four am, had a major vehicle malfunction and seen our boys through a football game a piece. By the time we hit the restaurant, we were exhausted and looked it. So,that meal was less than stellar but the experience was so great. Al ate off everyone’s plate and provided commentary on the clothing choices of our fellow customers. So, Al is nomming away on Kai’s pasta, “what’s this flavor? It’s so good! I just can’t place it!”. Kai replies, “dad, its butter.” I think I need to have a pomegranate martini now.

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