So, my sister-in-law's new digs - it's a restaurant that she helped launch. She's a chef and worked her mojo to get things off on the right foot.

Did we go? No.

Why? Long story and it involves lots of favoritism and unhealthy thoughts about how my husband just doesn't rank well in his family's dysfunctional tree - which, on the whole, is actually a good thing, even though it does sting.

We stayed home and had breakfast for dinner, which the kids love and I? Convinced myself that french toast and bacon was every bit as good as mahi-mahi with grilled pineapple and coconut rum sauce.

It almost worked.

Which, I just hit publish and realized that I sound like there's some regret there. There isn't. Am I a mite bitter about how the whole pre-dinner thing went down? Yes, especially in light of how this has been going on for years.

But do I really wish I had been out to dinner with the in-laws instead of serving up an impromptu breakfast in my own kitchen with my three favorite people? Not really.