The biggest requirement for me is that the dishwasher is quiet!
In Texas, you have to take a class and have a certain number of driving hours and take a written and driving test.
He passed! By the skin of his teeth, perhaps. The test is so subjective…it’s based on the person grading. Which always makes me think of the scene in Clueless when Cher fails. Anyway…he didn’t parallel park well. Which, in his defense, he thought he was supposed to park between the poles, and she wanted him to the right of the poles. He nailed it for in the middle.
He went passed a railroad track too quickly. Honestly, I didn’t know that was a thing OR that when merging into a one lane road, you need to signal. I mean, you literally have nowhere else to go…so kinda obvious. He turned his head and used the rearview mirror to back up, but she said he wasn’t “observational” enough. Whatever. He has the license. It’s in the win column. Then we went to the most phenomenal Mexican restaurant! Someone’s abuela was chained the stove cooking for sure. Soooooooooo good! I asked the waitress, “ do I want enchiladas or tamales?” She was all, “you want the enchiladas with a tamale added.” She was not wrong! She brought Baby M a sopapilla for his birthday. It was a cloud of cinnamon, honey, and love.
We got his Nothing Bundt Cake bundltlet on the way home. That’s a birthday tradition. He talked me into going to see Five Nights at Freddy’s later. ONLY bc it’s his birthday. He’s already seen it once!
HOPEFULLY we have found THE TRUCK! We’re going to see it Friday! Yay!