Tempura and Toy Cars

Why settle for one dinner date, when you can have five?

Husband’s boss was in town earlier this week, all the way from Japan, and was kind enough to take ALL of us out for dinner.

When he heard that my guys had never been to a Japanese steakhouse, his mind was made up. It was… little boys fighting over the last piece of tempura shrimp, oohs and ahhs over flying knives, Daddy catching fried egg in his mouth, young men hiding under the table afraid of the big flames, the steaming onion locomotive trick, delicious in every imaginable way.

Just when I thought that Mr. Suzuki was the most wonderful boss in the world, he out did himself… out came little Hot Wheel sized remote control cars. One for each boy. He thought ahead, bought toys in Japan, and brought them half way across the world just for the delight of watching little boys play.

He has two college aged daughters, you see, and I think he’s pining for grandsons in a few years

My men did not dissapoint. They love their cars, sleep with them under their pillows, and have constructed a small town for them, from our scrap bin.

Let me give you a little tour:

There’s the “Gaz Station”

You can choose your flavor: orange, blueberry, kiwi or lemon.

Next stop, the Drive In Theater.

We came across this drive in on our recent road trip, and they’ve been thinking on it ever since. In their version, you can drive your car right inside the building, get your snack, then drive out back for the show.

You might want to swing by Whole Foods on your way home from the movies. They must have very wide aisles.

After your busy evening, you might need a little tune up. You know, a massage, a fruity drink. I’m not sure that’s what they had in mind when they made this service station out of the aforementioned TV parts, but that’s what I’d want in a machine shop, if I were a car.

They said it was to “pimp their rides.” What? I am not kidding, and I am not impressed. I AM very glad that the TV is in pieces, and the satellite service is gone. Sheesh. Pimp their ride.

So anyhow, after you’re all pimped, you can head for home through the “Chunnel” (we are fascinated lately with the Chunnel. I don’t really know why.). Each of the cars has their own digs (built post photo shoot), but if you’re just visiting for a while, there’s a high rise hotel too. It has a glass elevator inside, and they serve Shirley Temples there. So says the staff.

Thanks, Mr. Suzuki.

You do know the way to the hearts of my men.