Jack's Way or the Highway. Sometimes, Both.

This weekend, Durel and I had the rare pleasure of a date night.  We were heading out to a lovely dinner with my parents to celebrate my mom's birthday (Yay, Mom!) and cleverly bookended the reservation with pre-dinner drinks and post-dinner drinks.  (This makes us sound like lushes.  Oh, well.)

Our good friend, Megan, graciously offered to hang out with Jack while we were out.  She was our hero for offering, but she became even more of a hero when (1) she gave up a Saturday night for this; (2) Jack was bawling and snotty when we left; and (3) she didn't seem fazed.  Yes, she really rocks.

We realized that we just had to leave.  If we stayed, the crying wouldn't stop.  Forgive me for saying it this way, but Jack is like our dogs -- he's figured out when we're leaving, and if he's not going with, it stresses him out.  Pablo and Lucy are the same way.  So, we bolted, with a casual word to Megan over our shoulders as we head out the door:  "Oh, he likes being outside..."

As we settled in for our first drink, at the new W Hotel, we received this picture from the intrepid Megan:

Yes, you will do just fine.  Keep walking, woman.  I will give you my laser-like stare while I suck my thumb.
Dinner follows this, right??

Hope this finds you well.
Heather