My brother and sister-in-law entrusted me with the well-being of their only son for a few hours on Saturday. I decided to take him to shabu shabu, mostly because I tend to choose activities that I think a kid would like when I really have no idea what kids typically like. He couldn't reach the broth in the middle of the table. He complained that the steam was getting in his eyes. But, thankfully, after he got the hang of it, he had a blast and wants to go back!
Sunday I went on my first decent hike in probably over fifteen years. Some co-workers and I climbed Mt. Baldy (or Mount San Antonio, altitude 10,000 feet) as part of a 10.8 mile loop in the San Gabriel Mountains. The first few miles of the journey included a mental conversation with my younger self that went something like:
YS: You can't do this old man. You used to be in shape, but you're no spring chicken anymore.
OS: Maybe you're right.
YS: Of course I'm right. Take your joints for example. They can't possibly survive this. And your lungs. Do you really want to faint in front of your boss?
OS: Hey, we've been going for a couple of miles. I feel good! So, maybe you should just shut up and leave me alone!
What's Peanut eating? Turkey burger.