Check, Please!

Meet my sister

Gorgeous, Tall, Reproductively Capable (3 babies in 3 years - she's incredible), Tax Auditor extroardinaire, Political Bulldog, and All Around Amazing Sister.

She's smart.

Really smart.

She's funny. 

Really funny.

Probably because she's so smart.

And she makes gorgeous babies. 

I know, aren't you dying to be her best friend?  Sorry, that role has already been filled.  By me.  Please try again.

Anyway, she has the most incredible good luck/bad luck of anyone I know.  (seriously, if any of us win a million dollars, it will be her.  And in like kind, if any of us end up on a semi-deserted island with members of their camp being attacked by a black smoke monster, it will be her.) 

Again, I am sure her good luck has something to do with how intelligent she is.  (Although, one could easily argue her intelligence given her current reproductive condition - evidently she hasn't yet figured out how THAT keeps happening...)

Anyway, being that she is 9.9 months pregnant and about to pop, last night she carted her adorable brood off to Olive Garden for dinner.

The adorable brood.

They ate and ate and ate, as only a family of 4 on their way to 5 can. 

And just as they asked for the check, their waitress advised them that a woman a few tables over (a COMPLETE STRANGER) had paid for their meal.

And to that I say, "Huzzah!" (because I feel particularly British today) and "Man, am I a slacker or what?!"

I mean, really, what an awesome thing to do.  Scope out a mommy, who clearly has her hands full of adorable children-ness not to mention the pregnant, ready-to-popness, and make her night. 

What a saint.

Gee, I wish I had thought of that. 

Or maybe I just wish someone had paid for my dinner while I was pregnant.

Or maybe it's really all about my desire for a whole plate of really delish Olive Garden pasta.

That's probably it.