Sit-Down Adventure

We went out to eat last night, but not just at any restaurant. We eat out regularly, but it’s usually at a quick service place where we can order and eat quickly before a poor teenager in a paper hat informs us that if we can’t control our children we’ll have to leave. Last night, we ate out at an actual sit-down restaurant where the waitress takes our order, the walls are decorated with kitsch, and the kids are expected to behave for upwards of an hour.

The impetus for our splurge was two-fold. First, an aunt sent us a restaurant gift card for a birthday present. With part of our meal paid for, we needed a reason to leave the house. With three young children, suppertime at home usually ends about the time the bedtime routine begins. Try to leave the house for a nighttime meal, and I’m probably not going to make it to bed until after midnight, or about the time the first round of squawking begins from the kids’ room.

The second kick out the door came when a friend offered Ellie a free pedicure and manicure.* Since Ellie was going to be all prettied up and in the area of our target restaurant anyway, I figured I might as well pack up the kids and meet her for an exciting night out. We used to have romantic nights out, but having the kids in tow ensures no one can afford to spend more than a couple seconds gazing into anyone’s eyes.

We could have gone on a weekend night when we would have more time to jostle the kids, but I wanted to take advantage of the weeknight crowds. We could walk right into the restaurant, sit down with no wait, and watch our food come quickly from a kitchen with nothing better to do than prepare food for a smattering of people too lazy to cook on a weeknight.

My hope for a quick night went to waste like so much spit milk when I walked into the restaurant and found a 20-minute wait. I was still waiting for Ellie to meet us after her pedi-mani, so I pulled up a bench and hoped the kids would sit quietly for 20 minutes. The boys were surprisingly happy in their stroller, watching people go by, throwing their toys, and watching people pick up their thrown toys as they go by. Abbie entertained herself by playing with crayons, running around the waiting area, and generally ignoring me.

The 20-minute wait turned worked out well since Ellie’s pedi-mani took 25 minutes longer than she thought it would. She arrived to find us seated at a large table in the back. The man seating us knew exactly where to put us since he admitted having a three-and-a-half year-old son and 21-month-old boy-girl twins at home, matching our age gap almost exactly. I had enough time to position the boys in their stroller against a wall, pick out a meal for Abbie, and glance at my menu in between peeking up to make sure Abbie didn’t spill anything.

Our hope was to eat our meals in peace while Abbie picked at her kid’s meal and the boys sat magically content in their stroller. The waitress complied with our hope for Abbie by bringing her meal immediately, but the boys foiled us by squawking soon after Ellie arrived. We tried holding them in our laps, but they squirmed too much to comply. Eventually we set them on the ground and let them roam under the table. This worked out well since we were in a corner, allowing explore a confined area. We were confident they couldn’t get into trouble, and once we pulled that gum out of Ian’s mouth, everything went smoothly.

When the adult food arrived, we entertained the boys with pieces of bread. By this point, Abbie was done with her kid’s meal, and was using a fork to eat Fruit Rings from the diaper bag. In between giving the boys bread and helping Abbie spear Fruit Rings, Ellie and I took bites of our food. I realized the children were fading fast, and when the waitress returned to make sure our food was okay, I asked for the check and three boxes.

We made it out of the restaurant without incident, an incident being defined as a meltdown episode or someone leaving a mess that would guilt me into leaving a 30% tip. Unfortunately the service was a bit slow, and we walked into the door literally just in time to start the bedtime routine. We bathed the children, gave the boys bottles that they didn’t want after bulking up on bread, and read bedtime stories. Everyone went down for the night at exactly the regular time, except for me. I didn’t make it to bed until after midnight.

* She offered one to me too, but I like my cuticles just fine the way they are.