62. June 11th, 2010 Picture.

Now, my mom doesn't work on Fridays, she hasn't as long as I can remember (pretty sweet deal, huh?  She is always going, thank God it's Thursday and I'm all like, ya Ma, some people actually work 5 days a week, moving on...) Sometimes she'll come up to Chestnut Hill on my lunch break and take me to Legal Seafoods.  I don't hate it.  I love when she takes me out, because 1) I get to see her, 2) I get a good lunch and 3) she pays!  It's like the trifecta of awesomeness, right?  If only I didn't have to go back to work, ever.

We met at Legals, which is in the Chestnut Hill Shopping Plaza and got seated at a booth directly under the AC.  I didn't have a jacket and this was not going to work because I didn't feel like drinking hot tea and walking out with pneumonia.  We moved to a booth across the aisle that wasn't in the direct path of the Artic winds from the north.  When it came time to order drinks, my mom decided on a root beer.  A root beer!  Wait, a diet root beer, but still.  I don't think I've ever seen my mom drink any soda besides Fresca and Diet Pepsi, so I almost fell out of the booth when she didn't order red wine.  I do have one vague memory of making root beer floats with her in our kitchen, maybe they were Coke floats, whatever.  I ordered an Arnold Palmer, which everyone knows is awesome (half lemonade, half iced tea).  She said I was being dramatic, which may or may not have been the case, but I was still surprised to see my mom drinking soda at a restaurant and pulled out my camera to take a picture.  She is normally asking me if I want a drink drink, even though we both know I'm 'working', so ya, root beer.  I was chuckling to myself as she admired the IBC bottle, asking if you could actually buy these bottles at the store.  Yes mom, you can.  She was gushing about the root beer, saying how sweet it tasted and that she couldn't believe it was diet and said she thought they brought her regular on accident.  I took a sip and knew immediately it was diet.  There is no mistaking that blah aftertaste.  

We ordered a nice lunch, splitting a crab cake, and it was back to work for me.  Mom had said that she was way too full and completely blamed the root beer, which was probably true.  It is obvious that her new found love was fleeting because she was already turning.  That's not entirely true I guess, because the last time I went home and looked in the fridge, there was a 6 pack of IBC diet root beer, actually only 5, because mom said she couldn't wait and had one the second she got back from the store.  She may now be an IBCDRT addict.  I'll keep you posted.