The fish restaurant where you eat pancakes

So my dad left Bear Lake the other day for his fall migration to Phoenix, with my mom to follow within a couple weeks (she is staying behind for an appointment next week). On his way down, my Dad stopped to stay the night with my brother and his wife in Springville. Clint and I took the boys down there to spend a few hours with him, knowing we probably won't be able to see him again for a few months. We checked out Wes and Sharlyn's new apartment, visited for a few minutes, then we all took off for some dinner.

When my parents bought their 2nd home in Phoenix a few years ago, and started thier semi-annual migration routine, they created the tradition of stopping in Utah County each spring and each fall to take whatever children were in the area out to a dinner at IHOP. We look forward to this every 6 months more for the tradition of it than for the food. When we tell Tayson we are going to eat dinner at a restaurant with G'ma and G'pa Piggott, he always asks if it is the fish restaurant where he gets to eat pancakes. (????) This is because the IHOP we usually visit shares a parking lot with a McGrath's Fishhouse, which sports a huge fish-shaped sign.

Grampa Piggott and Brennen:

The newlyweds cuddling on their lovesac:

Tayson missed his afternoon nap on this day (never a good thing), causing him to fall asleep on the 20 minute drive down to Springville. After such a short nap, taken so late in the day, he woke up especially crabby and needed a few minutes of snuggling with Dad to cheer up.

Brennen really enjoyed his pancake for dinner (he ate all of it, except for the crumbs left scattered throughout his carseat.)