Of Taxe$, Trees, Chicken and Waffles

Today was tax day in our household. Larry, a long-time friend of Stacy's family, helps us file our taxes; he works out in the Valley, so we generally schedule our meeting to be on a Saturday morning and we'll shoot over to Burbank afterwards to visit Stacy's grandparents while we're in the general vicinity. (If you consider 18 miles away the "general vicinity.") I'll be getting a refund this year. Better enjoy it while I have it; next year won't be so pretty. Anything Mr. Obama gives me back next year, Mr. Schwarzenegger will certainly take away again.

Once taxes were filed and we got to Burbank the kids and I played in GGPa and GGMa's backyard while Stacy visited with them inside. There is a tree in the dead center of their backyard that is an iconic fixture to Stacy. She loves that the kids play on and around it like she did growing up. She has pictures of her Dad playing in that backyard too, through I think that might have been pre-tree.

And since we were in the vicinity (again, very loose term), we decided to bop over the hills to Hollywood for lunch, where we took L and N to one of Mommy and Daddy's former favorites, Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles. Two waffles and a drumstick later N was complaining all the way home how hungry he was.