Last night, as a special treat, we took SB (small boy) to a restaurant for dinner. Not anywhere fancy with tiny portions and giant prices, just one of those tropical themed places with all you can eat French fries and lots of TV’s. All day long I talked it up – how he had to be a good boy, listen to us, use his manners, not pick his nose (his new favorite pastime), and all the stuff parents say that kids instantly tune out…
Giddy with the thought of not having to eat at home, we came prepared. Here’s what I had in my purse to keep SB entertained:
Six toy cars
Buzz and Woody
Little M&M’s (the last resort)
My husband (or BB – big boy), also had his pockets loaded with toys, so we were cautiously optimistic. Then I realized that that’s the phrase police always use right before things go terribly wrong.
So we sat down, ordered our drinks, and SB happily played with his crayons for about 30 seconds. Then things started to go terribly wrong. Go figure.
Here’s a sampling of what we said during our 45 minute eating frenzy (more civilized people would refer to it as “dinner”):
TURN AROUND RIGHT NOW (what is the never-ending allure of people sitting behind us? And of course they’re crabby and old and hate kids)
Get that crayon/french fry/straw out of your ear/nose!
Get out from under the table.
Put your shoes back on.
Ok, forget it, just give me your shoes.
Where’s the other shoe?
How did it get to the table behind us???
Get your feet off the table.
Do NOT lick the table!
DO NOT SMEAR THAT BOOGER ON THE WALL!!
And then we left.
As we were scrambling to escape before our server saw the carnage we left behind, we passed a table with four, count ‘em, four toddlers and two shell-shocked parents. There were menus all over the floor, crayons flying and kids jumping everywhere – total chaos.
I felt great.