A lesson in patience

At Macaroni Grill for dinner Wednesday night with the in-laws:

Mother-in-law: This looks good. [points to Chicken Cannelloni on the menu]. But what does “hand rolled pasta” mean?
Me: Well. It’s like…you know pasta? Before it’s cut? It’s that. But rolled. By hand….
Mother-in-law: Ohh, ok.
Me: I think you’d like that dish.
Mother-in-law: Tell me, though, what’s the tomato sauce like? Does it taste like tomatoes? I mean, is it really tomato-y?
Me: I don’t know how to answer that question.


Father-in-law: I wonder why it’s called Macaroni Grill. Reckon the owner’s last name is Macaroni?
Hubby: No, because it’s actually Romano’s Macaroni Grill.
Father-in-law: So maybe because they serve Macaroni?


Mother-in-law: [watches Father-in-law cut his food into minuscule pieces, then mix it all together] I wanted a bite of that asparagus, but you cut it into such little pieces, I can’t even tell what’s asparagus.
Father-in-law: [picks a piece out and hands it to her] Here’s some.
Hubby: Why did you cut it all up like that?
Father-in-law: Mixes when it goes down, so why not eat it that way?

I can’t make this stuff up, people.

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