Let me tell you a little story... I had been putting far too much time at work and my DW determined that I needed some male bonding time with Evan, our then three year old. Taking the oppertunity of heading out for a scrapbooking weekend, she left the little guy in my hands and let me plan the time she'd be away. "Fine" I said, "We'll have a fun time." That Friday I got out of work a little early and picked "Sprout" up from daycare. I asked him if he was hungry, and what he wanted to eat. "Chicken fingers" he said. I took this as a sign of divine "guy bonding" intervention. We hopped in my car and drove the 45 minutes to Hooters. He had a blast. Instead of the usual milk, we each had root beer ('cause guys drink root beers, don't you know) and had a large serving of wings and chicken fingers. As a point of clarification, not every waitress is exactly the calendar girl your DW has pictured in her head. Most are simply very nice women with kids of their own... Anyway, during dinner my cellphone rings and wouldn't you know it, it was my DW. Rather than answer it, I simply handed the phone to Evan with the standard, "It's your mother." He starts speaking with her and shortly later tells her that we're at Hooters. I could hear the cell phone from the other side of the table, "You're at Hooters?!!!" I was laughing, the ladies she was scrapbooking with were laughing, it was hysterical. Anyway, Sunday night my DW returns home and wants to go out to grab something for dinner. My DS has since determined that the ONLY place he wants to go is ... yep, Hooters. I was so proud. Alas, it took a little while to figure out that it was because they had root beer.
That was over a year ago and we've been back (as a family) numerous times. On our last family visit to Hooters the families outnumbered the "guys" probably three to one. Walk in, grab your table and try the grouper sandwich, it's great.