Unfortunately, one of my father's favorite restaurants has become a regular tradition in our household. Because of this, today was going to end up as any other Sunday--lunch at our local Huddle House--or so we thought. When we arrived, the entire restaurant was completely full; and so we did what any hungry family would do in a full restaurant, we waited. We waited as patiently as we could for as long as we could until we could wait no longer. It appeared a certain family, who appeared to be finishing up, were not finishing up at all. Which was fine by me--I would have been happy eating anywhere else. One can only take so much Huddle House. The wait became ridiculously long, so our small army of a family decided to migrate elsewhere in search for food. My suggestion of the Mexican restaurant proved fruitless...they were closed. Rush's was also closed. We were growing restless. All else was beginning to fail, so we found ourselves at Wal Mart to get something to take home to eat (sub sandwiches, actually--who wants to clean up after a meal on a Sunday?!). Daddy wasn't quite ready to give up hope on Huddle House, though. One final trip by to see if a table had cleared was all it took.
So that's how I introduced my digestive system to 2012...with Huddle House.
Cheers!
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