the orgin of the taco

So . . . why taco? Most people say bean, right? As with everything, there is a story to the taco name.

Last October The Husband and I boogied down to Columbus, Georgia on a Thursday afternoon to meet my sister and her husband. We were going to see George Carlin -- live! We were very excited, and looking back, we are all very glad we went to see him since he passed away the night before Lydia was born.

We were trying for Lydia by now -- I had another week to find out I had her. I had suspicions that my sister and her husband might be trying for their own child but wasn't sure.

The four of us were waiting for the show to start and discussing our dinners. The Husband and I had had Wendy's, I think, and my sister and brother-in-law had enjoyed some tasty tacos.

"How was your taco?" my sister asked her husband.

"Most excellent," he replied. He rubbed her belly and asked, "And how is your taco?"

There was this split second where my sister looked kinda funny, looked at him, then said rather guardedly, "My taco is fine."

"Oh, my God -- they're pregnant." I thought.

It turns out they weren't, but wouldn't you have thought that, too, what with the belly rubbing and taco questions?

So, less than a week later when I saw those two pink lines, what else could it be BUT a taco?