Last night, BISMOW & I went out for a quick dinner. We had been running around and stopped in a local pub for their fabulous Wednesday night special of $5 burgers. That and they have a burger with a fried egg on top (for me...mmmm) and one with blue cheese, buffalo sauce & bacon (for Bismow).
When we arrived, the two of you were there. Two women, clearly good friends, with a total of 4 kids with you. One of you I have seen before, at the same restaurant, dining with your husband and your two daughters. I've also left the same restaurant at the same time as you & I know that you live nearby, as I've seen you walk into your house. Lest you think I'm a stalker, I live nearby as well and even in a big city, familiar faces pop up at the local neighborhood haunts.
Last night I wasn't bothered by the fact that the four kids were obviously excited to be out to dinner with playmates. I wasn't bothered by their giggling, or even when they decided they needed their own table, away from the grown-ups. The restaurant wasn't particularly crowded, and the table really wasn't all that far from where you two adults were sitting. Kids are kids, and sometimes they want their "independence" no matter how false it is.
What I was bothered by was your four children, approximately aged 3-6, screeching at the top of their lungs. Running throughout the entire restaurant screeching. Crying when one of them knocked another down. The repeated barreling up and down the three steps separating the "bar" from the "dining room". The fact that they almost caused a waitress to drop a heavy tray of food and drinks on their noggins when they darted through her legs. And oh, my goodness, the screeching.
What made it worse was your repeated attempts to stop it, telling that they needed to calm down, stop running and use their indoor voices. With no repercussions when they started up again two seconds later. Never once did you sit their fanny's down in a chair, hand them some crayons and inform them that if they couldn't behave, they were not getting their french fries, or that they had to go home. No, you continuously told them they were behaving poorly with zero punishment or incentive to stop.
I don't pretend to be a parent, and I'm sure it is a tough job. I'm sure you had both had a long day, as evidenced by the suits you had on (presumably from work) and the dance recital costumes worn by the three girls. I'm sure you wanted nothing more than a glass of wine and a good book and your children sleeping soundly within the hour. But to inflict them on the general public? To allow them to wreck havoc in a restaurant, filled with adult patrons (because it is in fact a bar as well) trying to watch a baseball game & enjoy a meal? That is unacceptable. What was more unacceptable was the fact that you clearly recognized their poor behavior and did nothing about it. Furthermore, how upset had you been if that waitress had dropped that tray on one of your precious snowflake's heads? I'm sure the scene would have been ugly & injury filled.
And finally, after you left, I thought we were done. But no. One of the little princesses needed to use the restroom and even though you live across the street you brought them back in, for a few final laps around the joint while one of them tinkled.
