Two Bits, Four Bits, Chicken Masala!

Ordering Indian food for the first time is like, well, other things we do for the first time--pretty scary and intimidating. I had my first Indian dish maybe 20 years ago. By the time the waiter brought my dish to me, I remember wanting to say to him "I think you brought me some diarrhea by accident."

Had me another Chicken Tikka Masala moment this afternoon, only there was nothing for me to swallow today, except my pride and identity.

Came home right after school so that I could take Allison to her first cheerleading meeting, a meeting filled with Allison trying on outfits and me writing out checks and asking questions like "Is that a skirt or a napkin?"

Despite feeling the kind of confusion one feels when perusing an Indian menu for the first time, though, I think I played it pretty cool.

For one, I wore my fancy "school" outfit, the one with the stylish tan pants I snagged off the rack 15 years ago, and last spring's hip-and-with-it two-layered shirt from Shopko. Plus, I've been keggling a lot lately and, frankly, I was feeling pretty dry and mighty.

Then again, it's possible I was just faking it. After all. . . .

. . . there was that perky, pert woman who kept using the word "Varsity" until I finally had to tell her that Allison made JV. Okay, so Varsity is a company, not a cheerleading team.

How was I to know?!

And so it went. In the 90 minutes I was there, in between scratching my so-not-a-cheerleader noggin, I learned that, when a person becomes a cheerleader, said person must try on many, many outfits--perhaps even more outfits than her mom has ever tried on in her life. And her mom is NEARLY 50 YEARS OLD, for Pete's sake!!!

I also learned that there are things called "cheer burgers" made and sold by cheer parents at, well, pretty much every event that takes place at the friggin' school, including PLCs!

But, when I wasn't so busy feeling like Muammar Gaddafi at a bat mitzvah, I started to notice something else. Namely, Allison's satisfied, happy smile. And the easy way she moved from one outfit to the other, her strong, lean body happy in its many color-coordinated clothes.

At the same time I started feeling just a tad dumpy, I also felt a warm glow come over me, much like the same glow I feel after a hot bowl of Mulligatawny. And I got to admit that it tasted pretty good.