You’ve seen pictures of us, right?

If not, you need only scroll down a bit and check us out on the Polar Express. (Pay no mind to the texting redhead who was severely punished for having ruined the one and only family photo on the train).

Yeah, so, my point is to prove to you that we’re not terribly huge people.

Some might even say we’re on the small side.

Petite’ish.

With the exception of Jayce, of course, who is freakishly large.

But as a whole, we tend to run small.

It might surprise you, then, to learn that we can put some food away.

For real.

Our weekly grocery bill is frightening.

The proportions dished out each night are gargantuan.

We shop for produce at Costco.  Because around here quantity is as important as quality.

You get my gist.

Last weekend we dined in Phoenix during our Polar Express trip.  We thought we’d try a new restaurant, based on the fact that I had a coupon, and we were in the mood for something different.

Something Buca.  Which is an Italian joint that serves food up family style, in either “small” or “large” portions.

The waiter took one look at us and declared that we should order small portions of everything.

I begged to differ.

“We put away some food,” I told him.

He motioned towards his protruding gut and then at me in comparison, and said, “no really.  You should order smalls.”

I smiled knowingly at Jeff.

The waiter assured me, “my job is to help you.  To make sure you don’t end up with boxes of food to take home.”

I would have pat him atop the head, had I not been sitting and him standing.

“I really think we’re going to opt for the large portions.  And if we have leftovers, you are well within your rights if you stick your thumbs in your ears and make the nanner-nanner-nanner face at me, all while chanting I told you so.  Deal?”

He may have been just a tad put out by my know-it-allness.  Not that it phased me.  Because when it comes to my family, I sort of a know-it-all.  It’s in my job description.

The food came.

The wine flowed.  (Just for Jeff and I.  Don’t tsk. tsk. me).

We ate.

A lot.

With the exception of the garlic mashed potatoes.  Because they were really rather icky.  And that’s coming from a lover of mashed potatoes.

Platters were emptied.

Plates were licked clean.

And that waiter?  He was left with nothing to nanner-nanner about.

Because we can put away some food.

And then be hungry again a couple of hours later.

I’m not sure where it goes.

Maybe we have tapeworms.

But let this be a lesson to you, should you be inclined to invite us for dinner.

We can put away some food.

Trust me.