by Patti and Cathy
There is an equation that parents are all too aware of: Kids+Restaurant = Flying Food, Yanked Table Cloths, Toppled Wine Glasses, Punctured Conversation, Cold Dinner. Yet, we keep trying to change the outcome of this equation because we simply cannot let go of the idea that we once had so! much! fun! at restaurants. We can't let go of the memory of that lingered-over wine; that savored dinner; that gaze over the bread basket. Until one of those rolls from that bread basket clobbers your forehead and you sadly snap out of it. Then we remember that, oh yeah, we have kids.
We had a big reality check on the whole restaurant situation a few years ago. Our families were looking forward to trying out a new BYOB Cuban restaurant, and decided to plan a "double date" of sorts. Amazed that the stars of our respective schedules lined up, we foolishly thought it might be fun to bring our kids, too.....
Patti
I was so excited about our night out. We don't get to hang out very often with our families all together, and I was looking forward to trying out a new restaurant, cracking open a bottle of wine, and enjoying some spirited conversation. The restaurant was tiny but cozy, and they gave us a nice, long table by the window. We set up the girls at their own table, and they were thrilled to be all "grown-uppy", browsing the menu and enjoying their own conversation. Things seemed to be starting out perfectly. Almost too perfectly.
The food arrived, steaming, smelling like Havana, and we all began to dig in, family-style. That is when Ari, Cathy's youngest and 2-years old at the time, decided she simply had to be with her papi. Joe took her into his arms, and tried to juggle his fork, his wine, and his little firecracker of a daughter all at once. Ari got more and more wiggly, apparently annoyed that her papi would dare pay so much attention to the rice and beans over her. Joe tried to pass her off to the older girls, telling her how much fun it would be to be at her own table, but Ari wasn't buying it. She knew the real fun? Was being had at our table. So she refused to budge. I could see little beads of sweat beginning to form on Joe's forehead. Joe has always been a "cool customer"; the kind of guy who "never lets 'em see you sweat". But tonight, he was being driven to the brink.
Knowing that Ari had always been fascinated by my Blackberry, I lured her over to my lap with the sparkling promise of YouTube clips from The Bee Movie. Joe, relieved to be free of that adorable albatross, gladly released her, and Ari scurried over to me. I hoisted her up onto my lap, and thus began the reprieve. We were back! We drank wine! We ate! We talked! Sure, I had to pause every 2 minutes to replay those damned clips, but it was a small price to pay for that freedom. But a mere 10 minutes later, mid-plunge into my Cuban fish, Ari got bored. No amount of replays worked. The little assassin sensed fun was being had, and she set out to kill it. She climbed back into Joe's lap, and began to methodically take us all down, one by one.
She started off by insisting she had to go the bathroom. Cathy got up to take her, but NO. It had to be Joe. Joe wearily got up and accompanied her to the one, small bathroom in the restaurant. Of course, the minute they went in, others lined up outside to wait their turn. They were in there forever, and when they finally came out, Ari was pantsless.
"Where are her pants?" Cathy asked confused.
"She didn't want to put them back on," sighed Joe.
Ari was walking behind him, her hair sticking up, her onesie unsnapped, her bare butt hanging out. That's when I noticed: she was not only pantsless, she was also BAREFOOT.
"Joe! She's not wearing shoes!" Cathy hurriedly looked around the restaurant, wondering if her toddler was violating some health code.
"I'm not going to argue with her!" Joe threw his hands up. He sat down to swig some wine, and Ari climbed back into his lap."No mamita, please get off."
Ari screamed. "NO! Papi chulo!" She clung to him, a little leech sucking the life right out of him.
Joe's face reddened, the "cool customer" facade cracking. "Cathy, TAKE HER, PLEASE." He unclenched Ari's grip from his chest, but her little hands boomeranged right back to his shirt, and she leeched onto him even more tightly.
"NOOOOOOOOO!"
Joe unpeeled her from his body, planted her on the floor, pantsless and barefoot, and stomped out of the restaurant. Ari, the ever-efficient assassin, set out after him to finish the job. I could see him in the vestibule, pacing in that tiny space like a caged lion, Ari now wrapped tightly around his neck, choking him. M got up to play mediator, and I could see them all in there, hands flying animatedly, Joe's mouth moving in anger and frustration while M tried to talk him down from the ledge. Ari remained coiled around Joe the entire time. I turned to Cathy, the beautiful spread of untouched food before us. "Girl, you have GOT to get a portable DVD player. 'Cuz this? Ain't working."
She started off by insisting she had to go the bathroom. Cathy got up to take her, but NO. It had to be Joe. Joe wearily got up and accompanied her to the one, small bathroom in the restaurant. Of course, the minute they went in, others lined up outside to wait their turn. They were in there forever, and when they finally came out, Ari was pantsless.
"Where are her pants?" Cathy asked confused.
"She didn't want to put them back on," sighed Joe.
Ari was walking behind him, her hair sticking up, her onesie unsnapped, her bare butt hanging out. That's when I noticed: she was not only pantsless, she was also BAREFOOT.
"Joe! She's not wearing shoes!" Cathy hurriedly looked around the restaurant, wondering if her toddler was violating some health code.
"I'm not going to argue with her!" Joe threw his hands up. He sat down to swig some wine, and Ari climbed back into his lap."No mamita, please get off."
Ari screamed. "NO! Papi chulo!" She clung to him, a little leech sucking the life right out of him.
Joe's face reddened, the "cool customer" facade cracking. "Cathy, TAKE HER, PLEASE." He unclenched Ari's grip from his chest, but her little hands boomeranged right back to his shirt, and she leeched onto him even more tightly.
"NOOOOOOOOO!"
Joe unpeeled her from his body, planted her on the floor, pantsless and barefoot, and stomped out of the restaurant. Ari, the ever-efficient assassin, set out after him to finish the job. I could see him in the vestibule, pacing in that tiny space like a caged lion, Ari now wrapped tightly around his neck, choking him. M got up to play mediator, and I could see them all in there, hands flying animatedly, Joe's mouth moving in anger and frustration while M tried to talk him down from the ledge. Ari remained coiled around Joe the entire time. I turned to Cathy, the beautiful spread of untouched food before us. "Girl, you have GOT to get a portable DVD player. 'Cuz this? Ain't working."
Cathy
No parent wants to be the one that all the other restaurant customers glare at sideways with that awful look of disdain on their smug faces. We know all too well what that feels like, and also know, that no matter what, we would never do the same to other parents in a bad situation because we know what it's like.
We've been to restaurants where spaghetti was being flung to other tables, tantrums were being thrown in high chairs and most of the food and drink ended up on the floor. But this night? Was out of control.
Ari had (and still has at times) moments where she just would NOT let Joe put her down. He was eating? She was on his lap. He was watching TV? On his lap. She even wanted to sit on his lap and have Joe read her a book as he was using the bathroom. Every video clip taken of Joe during my sister's wedding three years ago - had Ari pinned to his side. His arm was sore for days after that. So this night, was no different.
I knew things would go south when Ari insisted that Joe take her to the bathroom. And a few minutes later, I saw it: Ari darting into a dining area filled with people enjoying their night out, barefoot with her unsnapped onesie flapping wildly behind her. Joe was nowhere to be seen; I thought for a second that he might have escaped out the bathroom window. Instinctively, I thought I should just keep eating, conversing and drinking and pretend I didn't know who that crazy baby was. Which I did for a few brief moments before I got up to discreetly lure her towards me until I saw Joe, pale as the moon and a frown imbedded on his face, walk up behind her and try to smoothly pick her up, whereupon she threw a fit.
Joe was having no more of this. He hoisted her on his hip, her little dimpled butt peeking out of her open onesie, tears in full swing, no shoes, no coat, no nothing and announced that he was taking her home. His food was barely touched, his wine just waiting to drown his frustrations. I desperately looked at Patti and M; my look said it all. M immediately sprung to action and attempted for what seemed like forever, to talk Joe into coming back in. Begrudgingly, he did. And Ari remained on his lap for the rest of our now deflated, hurried, undigested meal.
The next day, I bought a portable DVD player.
