We went to Denver over spring break. We stayed with Neph's grandparents in Littleton. Late one night, we were dragging around downtown Denver, looking for someplace to eat dinner, someplace with great food as well as a high tolerance for boisterous children. We found that place in a little Japanese restaurant run by an old couple who doted on the children in between zealously serving amazing food to a wildly diverse set of people (from a guy who appeared to be homeless to a dude in Gucci and Prada and everyone in between, including us).
On the way home to Utah, we stopped in Fruita, Colorado for gas and encountered a collegiate cycling race, so we got out and watched for 45 minutes. The red-headed children got lots of rubs on the head for luck from riders, but we didn't stay long enough to see if it worked out for any of them.I didn't go to a single yarn shop the whole time. I still can't believe it, but I suppose it's proof of the sacrifices parents make for their children in the thick of life.
