Saturday with the Andersons

Lately, the Andersons have been spending their Saturdays sacked out on the couch after long, tedious weeks, indulging in some college football and finger food, slaving only when we must at petty chores, making the finger food, and that wicked thing they call homework...

But this Saturday was much too good to resist, Mom declared as she dragged me out of bed before 8 o'clock. No, the homework monster could wait! they said. I would have all day to spend some quality time with him tomorrow, because today was the day. Today was the day our lazy bums would soak up some Vitamin-D!

Off to the Green Market, we go, mouths watering for some over-priced overly-delicious pastries! And it's not a meal unless we all steal morsels of each others'. Dad's quiche definitely won the prize, even though he scarfed it down before my fork could stake out a second bite. (Thanks, Dad!) 

Despite being awoken before my preferred hour, I'll admit- it was worth it. Days like these can't be enjoyed from the bland comfort of the couch!

After eyeing all the hipsters, characters, seniors, undercover millionaires and their dogs (we're in Palm Beach people!) and of course the menagerie of delectable treats on display, the Andersons drove home to drop the car off and walk over to the movies to see the newest flick, Lincoln. 

"Abe! Abe! Abe! Abe!"

I'm sure all the sweet old folk thought Dad and I were nuts, but that's alright. I like to imagine Mr. Lincoln looking down on us and chuckling, "Crazy kids..."

For being the president during the ugliest, bloodiest period in our history, the man had a great sense of humor.

The day didn't stop with our presidential cheerleading, though, because at 5 o'clock we had nabbed a reservation at a brand new rodizio restaurant. 

Never before have our carnivorous consciences been so stimulated.

(Vegetarians and vegans, discretion is advised.)

MEAT. HEAVEN.

And it just kept coming, and coming--Steak and lamb and pork and chicken and more steak and sausage and shrimp and more steak and the best grilled pineapple one will ever taste in all of earthly living.

If it hadn't been for the eternal meat train, I would've lost my marbles to the droning elevator music, the gluten-free bread and the people who kept begging to get me a clean plate. They were getting in the way of that bacon-wrapped filet that was whispering my name! And the good Lord knows the Andersons don't like anyone hindering their acquisition of proteins. We'll keep our semi-filthy plates, thank you.

7 o'clock and 4 stuffed bellies later, we rolled out. Tonight they were lighting the Christmas tree at CityPlace, but the main attraction was not the tall twinkling artificial pine extravaganza, no, it was the "snow" anticipated to blast from unknown origins (which turned out to be on top of the palm trees) other than the sky. The Andersons love snow that you don't have to shovel, snow that doesn't scream chapped faces, puffed parkas and frozen fingers. Even if it smells kind of like Dawn dish soap.

And thus, the Andersons love Florida.