What d'ya wanna do for dinner?

It should be such a simple question, but around these parts we make it so complex.

I don't know...whadda you want?
I don't know...how about ___________?
No...not ___________.
Okay...how about __________?
Ummm...nooo, not __________.
There's always ____ ___________.
We still have leftover ____ __________ in the fridge.
True...__________?
I guess..._________ it is!

Tonight we got a case of the 'what-the-hell-were-we-thinkings' and went to dinner at a local Mexican cantina. We wouldn't normally have acted so irrationally, but we needed to use a soon-to-expire gift certificate from last Christmas. Somehow, in the midst of the decision-making process and the excitement over actually knowing where the gift certificate was, we forgot about the impact three kids under the age of four can have on dining out.

Amazingly, the boys behaved themselves. The Wubster kept busy dipping tortilla chips into salsa, taking bites, screaming, drinking water, and reaching for more. Mini-Me sat slyly swiping sips of his mom's strawberry daquiri (virgin...natch). SheWhoShallRuletheRoost noticed there were no tantrums to watch and an uneventful dinner out might be unfolding before her, so she decided to throw her own.

After an hour of switching off eating, feeding, swaying and shushing, Rach and I packed up our meals, jacketed the kids, and reminded each other that the leftover _____ ________ in the fridge would have been fine.