Daring dining

When you’re a parent, your children’s signature milestones are moments of unending pride. Take my neighbors, who were beaming with pride when they shared a huge milestone with their one-year-old: “We went out to lunch – in public!!!”
Ah, dining out. The dreaded, frightening adventure into an a mysterious world where anything can happen. Things can be thrown (forks, rolls, temper tantrums). Loud unnecessary proclamations can be made at volumes normally reserved for marching bands (“I don’t LIKE food!!!”; “I NEEEEEEED more ketchup”; and “I’m stinky.”).
When our daughter was born, we took her out a few times as a baby. That was because babies can’t get away. Not that I would suggest this, but you could just set a baby on the floor and, at the end of dinner, you can bet your baby will be there when you’re done (assuming you dine at dingo-free restaurants). Again, not suggesting you just park your child like an umbrella. Just stating a fact.
And if a baby does start crying, she’s portable enough that you pick her up and go for a little jaunt, where you do that goofy little hop/dance and try to whisper/sing a song to soothe her, but because you haven’t slept in 11 days you can’t remember the words to actual songs, so you resort to trying to sing a song you thought you knew and just end up making up the rest:
“I can’t get no ... satisfaction. I can’t put a ... dog in traction. But I try. And I try. Please don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I can’t get no ... I’ll play Uno ... No, no, no ... And hey, hey, hey. L.A. Law’s Susan Dey...” Repeat.
But as Allie got older, she became mobile, and her reach and grip improved, meaning you could go to dinner and, if you made the mistake of looking away for a moment, such as to take a bite of your food, you would turn back just in time to see a pat of butter zoom across the room.
After a while, you decide you want to brave back into the restaurant world. My wife and I always made a point of selecting a restaurant that could drown out the potential noise. Unfortunately, firing ranges and airline tarmacs rarely have restaurants, so we would opt for a “family-friendly” restaurant.
It was at these restaurants where I first noticed something about people, and that is that some people will put themselves in situations they know are going to annoy them, and then proceed to act extra outraged, as though they would never have imagined that a pizza buffet line at 5:30 would have families there. I mean, for crying out loud, they have a RIGHT to go to a restaurant that advertises in HUGE letters that kids eat free and expect a monastery-like peace and quiet.
But after a while, Allie got to where she was pretty good at restaurants. She’s six now, so going out is a big deal, and she will often go get dressed up and look like an absolute princess. (In fact, she looks so adorable when she gets dressed up that she could pretty much come downstairs and get away with anything, and I will cave. “Sure, honey. Take the car. Your dress is too pretty to say no!”)
Of course, it’s not always as easy as taking a perfect princess out, because Parker is 4, and he’s still in the learning process of proper dinner etiquette. Some things we let slide (“Fine, eat the butter. Just use a spoon.”) Other things we try to curtail. (“Parker, pants. On. Now.”)
Allie is quick to condemn this behavior. I am quick to remind her she’s only a couple of years away from the “Don’t eat that – it’s a napkin, for crying out loud” stage and not to get all high and mighty.
But for the most part, I’d say we are at the stage where we can go in public and have a relatively nice dinner. The other night, we headed out to eat, and for various reasons did not make it to the restaurant until what was normally bedtime. We figured, what the hey, we can go a little off schedule on occasion. Plus, we engaged the Out In Public Safety Plan, which is for both my wife and I to drive. That way, if/when one of your children hits meltdown, you grab the other half of your burger, tuck the kid under your arm football style and make a beeline for your car. If your kids are like mine, when they start throwing a fit in public, if you can manage to get them in the car seat and drive about eight feet, they will be asleep.
When we were seated, we were at the very back corner of the restaurant, right next to the kitchen. In fact, you could see the kitchen and all the activity going on. At one point, the waiter asked how everything was. I asked him if most of his patrons hated this table, right by the kitchen. He didn’t really know how to answer and was probably assuming I was going to be a high maintenance customer. “I’m just saying,” I said, trying to ease his concerns, “you should offer this up to folks with kids in tow. It’s loud enough that they’re not going to bother anyone and, to be honest with you, they’re having a blast watching the kitchen buzz.” He seemed relieved, and also like he thought I was maybe just a smidge off my rocker.
That dinner ended in a rather subdued way, with both kids coming around to where I was sitting on a booth seat, leaning their heads on me and trying to go to sleep.
In fact, it was a really nice dinner. So parents, worry not – it’s just a matter of time until your kids will reach that milestone, too. And if you’re not quite there, just have patience. And let them have some butter.