Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Walk a Mile in My Shoes...

For the conclusion of our fun family weekend, we decided to splurge and go out to dinner.  Honestly, we had been gone all day, my kitchen was clean at home and I just didn't feel like getting it messy again for what was sure to be another mediocre meal. So, me and my restless band of hoodlums (along with my husband) decide to go eat at a middle-of-the-road chain restaurant.  We were seated in what was a quiet corner of the restaurant.

We had scarcely been there five minutes when two beverages had been spilled all over the entire table drenching everything in site.  I said "please put your bottom in the chair and eat your dinner" no less than twelve times.  I said "could you please use your utensils?" and "utensil means fork or spoon."  I said "please get your finger out of my soup."  I also said, "please don't lay down on the floor" and "don't eat the bread that fell on the floor."  I said "please don't sing" and "I'm sure you can count to 100, but can we do it in the car?"  As if that wasn't enough, I had to point out that our waitress was not transgendered, she was simply wearing a uniform that included a tie like Daddy wears.  Through out dinner my arms were flying around the table like blades on a turbine.  Wiping up spills, passing out utensils, napkins, water. There were also two unsolicited bathroom trips during the meal.

In the middle of dinner, I happened to catch the eye of the couple sitting in the table next to us. Grinning, snickering, laughing.  Could it be that they were actually enjoying the drama of our three-ring-circus restaurant meal?  So superior.  So haughty.  Just who did they think they were?  They and their ringside seat to all my public humiliation.

As I started to fume, it occurred to me that once upon a time I was that couple (or half of it at least).  I'm certain I laughed at other mothers and wondered why in the world they would bother taking a crazy band of hoodlums to a restaurant.  Why couldn't they eat at home?  Why were they disturbing my meal??  Why can't they control their kids? I know I rolled my eyes and sighed heavily as I watched their arms spin around the table like blades on a turbine.

As the haughty couple next to us rose to leave, I saw it.  An unmistakable baby bump.  Oh, I will have my revenge in the end.  It won't be too much longer and she will be suffering public humiliation at a crowded chain restaurant.  I am certain of it.

6 comments:

forever folding laundry said...

Oh, yes, their turn will come...their turn will come!

seriously? said...

We have all had these moments, right? Those of us with kids and those without. At times I think it should be separated like it used to be with smoking sections, ya know? Then I stop to realize that all kids would be in one room...I don't think I like that option.

Wendi said...

Hear! Hear! They will get theirs...hahahahaha (evil laugh).
I have had people glare at me even BEFORE my kids do anything. That doesn't exactly put me at ease.

Mainly a midwife said...

Oh yes..one day it will be them. Restaurants and airplanes have been the scenes of my public humiliation. I remember one particularly horrible red eye flight..I'll never live it down.

TrueLoveIsaMama said...

I much prefer the open laughing to the silent judgment! Thanks for prepping me, since I am begging my husband to come home early enough this week so that we can go out to eat too!

LeAnne said...

We get those looks all the time. But ours come from all the white hairs that live amongst us here in the sunshine state. we have learned to just ignore and keep on eating out. May the force be with you and us!!