"Why do I still smell sushi?"

Sedona wonders in a loud whisper from the back seat as we drive through Dairy Queen after a delightful sushi dinner. I'm pretty proud of the fact that this little girl is the first to try just about anything new. She tried the wasabi, loves the sashimi rolls and can't get enough of those fascinating little slivers of ginger root. She's very sophisticated at a very early age.

I, however, evidently lack both the grace and refinement required for a sophisticated, no, civilized, sushi dinner.

Here are just a few of the reasons I should not be allowed to eat sushi (in public, anyway):

- After we'd placed our order, the kind server came back and asked if we'd like to try the egg rolls. Midway through Jeremy's "No, thank you, I think we're okay" I had some involuntary facial tick that said "Sure! what the hay! Let's try em shall we? Yippee! What an adventure!" and he stuttered and looked confused and then said, "I guess we'd like to try them. Yes. Thank you." I had NO IDEA my face did that. And now in addition to the obscene amount of sushi we had ordered we were going to have to choke down some egg rolls too because of my spazzy face. My face cannot be trusted when ordering or declining food in an Asian restaurant. Obviously.

- The egg rolls came with a plate of foliage. Some lettuces and some sprigs of something that the man called basil, but I assure you, was NOT basil. I think he said that we should roll the egg roll in the lettuce with some of the "basil" and then dip it in a little bowl of pinkish sauce. Jeremy was convinced that the plate of lettuce was a garnish. He approached his carefully. And with silverware. I wound the lettuce around mine and dunked it enthusiastically in the sauce, sending little sprigs of "basil" and pink sauce all over the place. And then I cackled, thinking that was great fun and secretly thanking my spazzy face for insisting on this little adventure.

- I dropped my salmon sashimi in the pretty little bowl filled with soy sauce.

- the dropping of the salmon into the soy sauce caused an unbelievable splash. See the GIANT splotches of soy sauce that now adorn the cover of my journal (that was in my purse on the floor) or ummm, my chest, which is now also covered in soy sauce. Sexy, I know.

- I find the O'Fallon roll just a bit too much for one bite. At least for one civilized, tasteful bite. I tried it. I choked. I spit some of it out. I laughed hysterically at my disgusting behavior. I'm usually accused of having too big a mouth. You know, because I talk too much. Well, this is not the case when it comes to sushi.

- I use the chopsticks to awkwardly deliver the sushi to my mouth and I like to think I'm doing okay on this part but then . . .I bite each piece in half, grabbing the rejected half with my fingers. I do not think that this is the way chopsticks are supposed to be used. Use chopsticks. Or use silverware. Or use your hands. But good grief woman, not a combination of the three!

- I enjoy the flavor, but half way through and just as my pants begin to feel a bit tight around the waist . . . the entire idea of sushi begins to nauseate me. I then develop an involuntary gag/recoil reaction to watching other people eating it, even though I myself, am still eating it. So there I am. . . eating . . . making a terrible face at the people around me. And let me tell you - I have a VERY expressive face. You should see me repulsed or unsure or afraid or happy or confused or excited sometime. Its a real sight.

- I coached my 6 year old daughter to use one of her chopsticks to spear a particularly ornery piece of sweet and sour chicken. Again, with the improper use of utensils.

- I found it amusing when a piece of onion from Sedona's plate found its way into my flip flop. She is definitely my child.

It's probably a good thing we were the only ones in the restaurant.