Milestone reached

Papadada and I had just about given up on ever 'doing lunch' again. "Until we are 54 years old, something like that", we had said to one another, our words laced with longing and pain. With much sorrow, we bade farewell to our chic and funky lunch spots, trading in our freshly toasted foccacias and skim-soy-lattes for DIY baby-food and Ikea high chairs. Welcome to parent-hood, right?

21 months and a couple of weeks on....

TA-DA!!!

We have ourselves a new lunch date!

Waitress? Party of 3, please:)

Ok, so the lunch locations are uber-child friendly meaning not all that cutting-edge, nor chic. But hey, at least we're back on the scene!

And look! Not even a high-chair in sight. Gee whiz, Sticky Baby, you've come a long way, kiddo.

(PS: How downright FREAK-AY that the table number is 21?!?!?)