It was party time! My dad and my son had some birthdays to celebrate today. We all went out to Iron Chef, a funky hibachi grill restaurant. I didn't realize quite how funky it was until I got there.
The "iron chef" came out and started making fire and throwing his cooking knives into the air.
"Whoa!" my son said. "You're crazy!"
The hibachi guy laughed. Then he spun some eggs on the hot grill and flipped them into his hat and into his pocket.
"Cool!" said my son. "Can I do that?"
Hibachi guy laughed again. "It an ancient Chinese art form. It take many years to master."
I guess that was a "no."
Next came the flying food part. "Open your mouth," hibachi guy said. He started flinging chicken pieces at us, expecting us to catch it in our mouths. My little guy had some trouble, so hibachi guy said, "Close your eyes. I help." He whipped a piece off his metal spatula and it landed right in his mouth. Bullseye!
That guy was good.
After the meal, a bunch of drum-toting Asian dudes gathered around us. They pointed to my son and my dad. "You," they said. "Get up, and stand on your chairs."
So Bubba, who thought it was great to finally get to stand on a chair and not be yelled at, hopped right up with a big grin on his face. Even my dad, who is now officially retired, got up on that chair. The drum beats started. My dad did a boogie, my son did something that looked a little like break-dancing, and the whole restaurant sang "Happy Birthday."
It was a moment to remember.