60/365 Fish Fry Frenzy

"We'll park on the street," I tell Sophia, Maeve, and their friend Margot. We pull up in front of the church, all of us eying the parking lot, chock full including all the handicapped spaces. Still, the hall holds a lot of folks.

I get Leo out of his seat and the girls, without coats, dash across the front of the church to turn the corner, heading towards the side door to the basement hall.

And they stagger to a halt. I catch up with Leo in my arms and stop myself. The line comes out of the door and weaves up and between the church and school building. Margot, always sensible, turns to me and shakes her head.

"You're right. Let's go have pizza."

Sophia nods enthusiastically--Sophia, who only 2 hours before when I suggested pizza instead of fish fry, got all weepy-eyed because she wanted to go help bus dishes and dance the jig to the live Irish music. But in the cold reality of a long line, a breezy Friday evening, and a hall full past the point of finding a high chair and a spot for each girl--she came around.