Grumpy’s last night with this particular group of students, so we thought we’d “have dinner at Daddy’s work” again, tonight.
A good thing, really, as Monkey Boy informed me, as we entered that he was “starving” and could “eat a horse then chase the rider.”
Monkey Boy ate his was through 3 bowls of pasta, again, then had a few serves of lasagne.
(Apparently, lasagne is not pasta, but who am I to argue with a seven year old?)
Godzilla ate 7 bread rolls, then went to check out the dessert buffet. Which consisted of copious amounts of chocolate inspired dessert.
“Oooh, I like a chocolate mouse, please,” he, ever so politely, informed the apprentice chef behind the buffet, charming her into handing over an elaborately presented chocolate mousse in a