Monday, November 17, 2025 - Day 461

Monday, November 17, 2025

Good morning, everyone.

Yesterday we had a sibling lunch with my local brothers—Tom, Tim, and Nick—and their spouses, MJ, Shawn, and Jill. The restaurant, a BBQ place in Lake Zurich called Barbecue Productions. We had an early lunch reservation for 11:30 a.m., hoping to beat both the crowds and the noise.

As soon as we parked and opened the car doors, that wonderful smoky, grilled-meat aroma hit us square in the face. You could practically taste it in the air. Right then and there, I thought, Yep, this is going to be good.

We were the last to arrive. Tim and Nick came out to help Cindy unload me and get situated in the wheelchair—a welcome break for her. Many hands make light work, and yesterday proved it.

They seated us in the back corner of the bar, and for a brief moment I thought we had struck gold: good food, good company, and a blissfully quiet restaurant. Drinks appeared quickly, and when the server asked if we were ready to order, we bought ourselves a few minutes to look at the menu.

That’s when Nick casually mentioned a detail he had learned when he was seated ahead of us: a private party of 100 was expected. Not a celebration of someone turning 100, but one hundred people. That comment caused the urgency to ramp up and bring a little internal panic. I was going to be doomed. We skimmed the menu at lightning speed and placed our order.

And right on cue…in they came. Families, big people, small people, lots of people…entire clans rolling in at the same time. Within ten minutes the place went from peaceful to absolutely packed.

Then a guy walked in carrying a four-foot championship football trophy, raised high for all to see, and with that, the noise level jumped to “you can’t hear yourself think,” which meant I had no shot at contributing anything to the conversation. Honestly, nobody else had much of a shot either. It was pandemonium on steroids.

Fortunately, since we got our order in first, our food arrived quickly. Everyone cleaned their plates—except Cindy and me. We split an entrée and still brought most of it home. I only managed a few bites of burnt ends, Cindy nibbled at the sides, and that was enough for us. Honestly, I was ready to go when the throngs of people showed up.

Finding our server to get the bill took another 20 minutes. We snapped a group photo, and the moment we pushed away from the table, another group swooped in like they had been circling overhead waiting for the kill.

The moment we stepped outside, it felt gloriously normal again. We exchanged hugs in the parking lot and headed to our cars.

It’s too bad the restaurant didn’t mention the private party when the reservation was made. We definitely would have picked another spot. This experience, confirms why going out to restaurants just doesn’t work well for me. I much prefer to stay home these days. Going out is just plain hard on me.

Silver-lining. I have some tasty leftovers to sneak in between formula feedings today. I’ll savior each bite in the quiet of our home.

Have a great Monday. Love you guys! ❤️