Bill took us to Santorini Greek Kitchen for dinner, and we each ordered the chef's combo platter. Which the menu failed to note contained enough food to feed seven deadly sinners and a professional football team. But it didn't stop us from ordering dessert. Something called galaktabouriko. Which was possibly the most delicious custard I've ever eaten. And the serving was the size of my head. Urp.
Afterward we headed back in time to the 1950s where we could pretend we'd never eaten the entire country of Greece AND we could engage in a couple wholesome games of duckpin bowling in a nuclear-age-themed setting. I'd never heard of duckpin bowling, but rest assured it doesn't involve the wounding of any ducks. But it does involve cute little bowling balls, cute little pins on invisible strings that yank the pins up into the heavens after you knock them down, and apparently the need for Bill and Justin to kick my ass.
This morning, Bill took us to a gay brunch place (is there any other kind?) and a walk along the scenic Indianapolis canal. And since the boys spent the morning being decidedly insensitive about my wounded bowling pride, I'm totally posting this goofy, unfocused picture of them in retribution:
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