You Have To Be Kidding me!

You have to be kidding me!

 

 Our last morning in Bruges, and with a little 'better living through chemistry', I had a decent night's sleep.

It was way before the 11:00 opening time, and we were due to check out at 12, so the plan was to go take pics of the area before all of the people descended upon the square.

Sounds good to me!
We had purchased candy and pastries at some point, so that's what Mom had for breakfast. I had this: 

 The breakfast of champions! White wine and orange juice that I saved from the train meal (I was with family after all). I also found a blueberry muffin from the plane in one of the deep recesses of my spy jacket. I was fed, I was watered, I was good to go!

It was wonderful! The streets were empty, there were no bugs, I was dancing around and singing, looking into shop windows. I was buzzed, I was relaxed and for the first time this whole trip, I was starting to have a good time. Until...

"Close your coat!"
"I can't. I have too many clothes on, I can barely move my arms."
"Close it anyway. I'm cold. I'm cold and my throat is scratchy."

Ah, crap.
Violation of Commandment #1!!!
Violation! Violation! Violation!

Now, this is not my first rodeo with Momster Illness. I kept my mouth shut. Hopefully she would forget about a scratchy throat. A girl can dream, right?

Okay, after taking more pictures, and losing my pleasant buzz, we made our way around the square. By this time, a nice waffle cafe was opening. Bereft of promised waffles from the day before, we went in.

MMMM waffles with chocolate sauce and tea. What could be better? Just the thing to stave off a cold. Several other patrons entered the cafe by the time we were tucking into the waffle goodness.

About 2 seconds later:

"I CAN'T EAT THIS!" Croaked through the air at a decibel reserved only for the old THX logo noise.

THX Sound Test Noise 

"What are you talking about, it's delicious!" I tried desperately to dispute.

"It's RAW! I can't eat it! It's disgusting!" 

I paused for a moment, not quite knowing what to do. We were in Belgium, not France, so I wasn't sure about the laws of Matricide. Besides, there were only plastic knives in the vicinity. I could have used my hands, I suppose, but for some reason that didn't seem viable either. 

I jumped up from the table.
"Wait here." I commanded and took off.

I ran, risking life, limb and shin splints in my heavy water resistant boots, the six blocks to the square. I kid you not, I was hauling massive (and jiggly) rear end. I was also praying I had enough euros in my pocket.
It was starting to rain too, which means the temperature had once again dropped to torture level.

I got to the square just as the waffle stand was opening.
"How long before I can get one?" 
"You have to wait 10 minutes, the grill isn't hot yet."

Fine. 10 minutes it is. The grill wasn't hot yet, but guess what was?

TARTIFLETTA!!!!  I checked my funds. I had just enough for one serving of tartifletta and one Brussels waffle.

Yes, this is a Brussels waffle. What we Yanks typically think of as a Belgian Waffle. The other is a Leige waffle and it's supposed to be soft and gooey. Ok, fine. I get the waffle and the tartifletta, tied up nicely please, and I haul it back to the waffle shop.

Momster is still there, thankfully, because God knows I wasn't in the mood to go searching for her. It was about 11:30 at this point, and we had a check out time to get back to.

I pull the lump that is She Who Must figuratively by the ear back to the hotel. I thrust the waffle in her hands and demand that she eat it.

"This is so good!" 
Damn well better be!

I ate my tartifletta, we use the facilities one last time and make our 12:00 check out. We hire a car to take us to the train station.

This seems like a good place to stop for this day's adventure.