Root beer.
While in Jackson Hole last weekend, my friends and I ended up spending a solid hour in Alberstons for no real reason (ok… actually, the real reason was to get a treat, but we got side tracked. See exhbit A below.Yes, that’s in the grocery store.)
During the romp around the store I discovered a locally bottled root beer. A sucker for glass bottled soda I decided to pick up a 4 pack. I cracked the first one tonight, and holy molars Batman, it’s awesome! Now I’m kind of bummed I didn’t pick up a few more. Luckily there’s always the future.
Yep, you read that right. It’s called Buckin’ Root beer.
The thing that blows my mind is that every time I even smell root beer, I’m immediately 6 years old, and having dinner with my family at Shakee’s pizza. My dad would always splurge and get a couple pitchers for the table. Then I would beg for quarters to play the pinball machine. Then I would lose the game in 30 seconds. Then I would beg for more quarters. Then he would say no. Then I would cry. And then we would go home…. Shrug.
Those were the days- when Shakee’s was a family pizza place and not a karaoke bar full of hookers.
I’m pretty sure we are creating those exact same memories with our kids. Except it’s Round Table here. But the root beer’s still rooty and the quarters – oh!There’s never enough quarters. The best is when we go with our friends and there is a total of 9 kids who have all won a bouncy ball and they all throw them IN THE RESTARAUNT at the same time. Some body ends up with a ball in their beer and we get nasty looks (this kind of behavior is not exceptable in California where having more than two kids is frowned upon…)