The "No fire" place

That would be the Japanese place in Andalusia. All we have to do is drive by, and porter starts saying, "no fire, mama." he doesn't like the fire part of the hibachi show.
We recently had dinner there after caroline's preschool graduation. Porter had his usual hibachi steak, and we got our fortune cookies on the way out the door. We were in a little bit of a hurry so I didn't take the time to open his, break it open, and get the fortune out, so I opened it for him when we got in the car and handed it back to him still in the wrapper. (I am completely aware that that is a terrible run on sentence. Sorry Mrs Kirkland.) He examined his cookie, took it out of the wrapper, broke it in half, and exclaimed, "mama, my cookie's got a tag in it!"

During porter's little life, I have occasionally referred to him as "p-pot." A couple of months ago we were calling him "names" to get him stirred up. Names like "moose butt," "goat toe," "fish nose," etc... Finally he had had enough, and very seriously informed us, "I not moose butt, I p-pot!" Now p-pot has evolved into whatever being he is, and his name is porter. Example: "I p-pot. Name's porter." All while patting his chest. This also applies when you try to compliment with things like, "you're so cute." You get, " I not cute. I p-pot!"


Tara
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