Taquitos (təˈkēdōs) Y Flan (flahn)

It was not a typical Thursday.  It was Chinese New Year so Jenson's daycare was shut. Huh? Yes. My 18-month-old celebrates the Chinese New Year at his Mandarin-influenced daycare so this day was their Superbowl. Jenson had been prepping all week long making paper mache´ red lanterns and brushing up on Mandarin animal flashcards. It was time to rest. And that meant it was a time for dad to take a sick day because mama just couldn't swing staying at home. I mean, I had really important things to do. Like participate in a Kathie Lee and Hoda TODAY show segment. Enough said, right? Really, any time I can get my hair and makeup done for free, even if the most exciting excursion I am making that day is up to the 9th floor to get a taco salad at our sceney commissary (cafeteria) NBC calls it "The Com" to everyone's dismay. SIGN ME UP.

So while I was getting glammed up to pretend like I was getting sloshed at an Oscar party at 10AM, Jenson and his dad were going to the Natural History museum on the Upper West Side and hitting up their favorite Mexican bodega in our neighborhood. They love the men in my family. So much so, the guys at the counter gave my son a bunch of free taquitos. Mini tacos for all of you people who didn't make to to Spanish II. Oh, and they threw in some flan as well. 

So when I got home there was a mini Mexican feast awaiting me. Perfect for the girl who is wearing a cashmere and fur cardigan and the remnants of red lipstick. The art of holding his taquito like a taco proved a bit challenging so it kind of turned into a taco bowl meal. We're like kindred lunch spirits because I always get taco bowls  at the Com. (sigh)

 I have a soft spot for flan and so does Jenson so we took turns having a go. There was some tense moments when he thought I was talking over the entire flan...and some loving moments as well. Like when he put his fist in the flan and tried to then shove his fist into my mouth. There were also moments where he kept saying "eye" and sticking his flan and taquito fingers into my eyes. What can I say, it's not every Thursday that I walk into the house with 187 coats of mascara on. Through it all, I was silently pleading with him to back away from the fancy sweater. And he somewhat obliged. I think he knew that our flan and taquito night was special. And I appreciated that.  Because if I'm being brutally honest, only a few hours earlier I was lamenting the fact that I had not had more foresight to get THIS LIPSTICKED, CARDIGAN AND FUR COLLARED BOD out onto the Manhattan scene. But after lady and the trammping flan with my baby, there really wasn't anywhere else I'd rather be. 

LOCATION: Home, Boerum Hill, Brooklyn