Milkshake Monster

Given my recent post about milkshake dreams, you'd probably assume with a title like Milkshake Monster, I'd be writing about myself. But no. There is a pint-size creature that growls in rage should you attempt to take a milkshake away from her. Here she is:

On Sunday, we went to a Western restaurant that we enjoy called The Diner. They have opened up a few locations since we've been living in Qingdao and most recently opened a 4th one at Marina City, which is right by where we go for church/Raelynn's play group on Sundays. The Diner makes awesome pizza and after a recent dinner with some Chinese friends at a crappy Chinese-trying-to-be-Western restaurant where I was subjected to disgusting pizza that made this pizza look good, Jeremy had promised to take me out for a real pizza.

So we decided to give the new location a try. But we were extremely disappointed. Jeremy had walked in first while I lagged behind helping Raelynn up the stairs to the restaurant's second floor roost. Once we joined him inside, Jeremy didn't look very pleased. The restaurant was very small inside. There was one giant table where a bunch of foreigners were already eating, and a few smaller tables in the corners. There was also a patio with outdoor seating. A couple tables were open inside and my husband had tried to sit there only to be denied. In Chinese, they told him those 2 tables were reserved for a 1pm reservation. I stared at them, confused. For starters, at the other locations, they put a card on the table that says "reserved" when people have made reservations. There was no marking on this table to indicate that. Also, it was just after 12pm. Meaning we had plenty of time to eat and leave before their reservation arrived, if they even would arrive on time, or at all.

They told us we could go sit on the patio which, with a toddler and in cold and slightly smoggy weather, was not something we wanted to do. Their general attitude sucked so we left as they attempted to make a half-assed apology. Sorry, but we won't be going to THAT location again. They obviously don't want our business. That was fine. We just went to the location in May 4th Square where the staff is always happy to wait on us and any other patrons that dare to show up. And we had a lovely lunch with pizza and burgers. And a milkshake, which, I shit you not, Jeremy and I got barely a few sips in before SOMEONE *coughcoughRaelynncough* stole it away.

 Can Mommy have some?

 Fuck no!

 I'll cut you, bitch! Gimme back MY milkshake! AIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

Ah, MY milkshake. Reunited, and it feels so good...

Step off, woman who gave me life. You had your sip. The rest is MINE MINE MINE!!!!!

Maybe we should have ordered 2 milkshakes but at 30 yuan each, my husband refused. He said he'd rather buy me a tub of ice cream and some milk and let me go nuts. That works for me.

Because she stole my milkshake (well, it WAS mine...I was the one who thought to order it!), Jeremy ordered the chocolate lava cake dessert that I adore so much. It comes with a side of ice cream. It rules. At least she was kind enough to share this dessert.

 I don't share milkshakes, but I'll share this dessert with you, Mommy.

Meanwhile, I'm so happy she's got plastic utensils so she can't stab me. Not that she would...would she? Nah.

 Both of us are blissfully quiet, sharing in this chocolatey moment together.

All gone. No way, dude. I've got a plate to lick.
And she did. She scraped that thing clean. It's the Raskin gene. My side of the family loves desserts. No doubt this set of photos reminds my dad of me at that age. If he's reading this now, he's laughing himself silly because it's Jennifer 2.0. Ah, I love my mini-me, even if she is a milkshake monster, just like her mommy.