birthday dinner with friends

Six of us get together to celebrate my March birthday.

I choose a restaurant in the East Village. It's called PMF for Pardon My French, and the online reviews are good.

I take a Via, exit the car, and look around. It's in a  pretty desolate neighborhood on Avenue B.

I see the restaurant and go inside.

Ronda and Zelia are already there. We are given a nice round table in the middle of this very-French looking restaurant. We order red wine, and soon Shari, Pam and Janice arrive. I ask the waiter to take our picture. And because it's my birthday dinner, no one complains.

Zelia, Pam, me, Shari, Janice and Ronda

The restaurant is so dark we all use our phone flashlights to read the menu. But the food doesn't disappoint. Everything is excellent, especially the beef tartar appetizer and duck entree. 

We all have 24-year old sons. And all our sons have graduated college and started on their careers — in Chicago, DC, Boston, New York and Philadelphia.  I hope that when our sons are all starting their families, we, the moms, are still celebrating each others' birthdays.