Almost 7 years into this whole ‘parenthood’ thing, and I’m sad to say, the trash still goes out more than I do. I think after a year of not seeing any other human beings except for the one you pushed out of your vagina, you become a homebody. My idea of a fun Friday night is planting my ass on the couch, watching Netflix or whatever I have left on my DVR, and indulging in a few alcoholic beverages. I’m boring! I CAN’T HELP IT! IT JUST HAPPENED!
Really, it’s okay. I’m not bitter about it. It means anything stupid I do is done at home and the only person who can make fun of me is my husband, and he fears for his life, so that isn’t going to happen.
I’ve made friends with people who have kids over these 7 years, but they’re homebodies, too. The thought of getting everything ready to go out when kids are involved is generally too exhausting in and of itself. Maybe next time, we say. How about next week? Next week turns into next month turns into next year and before you know it, you’re me, and your couch has the perfect butt-hole for you to never want to leave it.
The one exception is when someone comes into town that you haven’t seen in a long time, and may not have a chance to see again for even longer.
That is what happened last night.
Them, us, their two kids, our two kids. It’s a family night out!
We picked a new (to us) restaurant that was definitely on the pricier side, but kids 6 and under ate free. If kids 6 and under are free, they must be family friendly! They wouldn’t mention it if they weren’t, right?
We walked in and immediately you could tell the place was upper-crusty, but it was loud. Lots of talking, laughing… I’d dare even call it jovial. Perfect setting for loud kids who might get antsy trying to sit down at a restaurant without booths (meaning we couldn’t trap them in their seats). There were a TON of open tables and we had a reservation, so I expected that we’d get seated almost immediately. Maybe we could even sit by a window so the kids could watch the rain and the cars go by. Distraction is a close friend of mine.
I’ve been given dirty looks in restaurants when my kids act up. I’ve been stared at, whispered about, and who knows how many people mumbled that they wish we would leave. Shit happens. Kids act assholish at times. NEVER before, have I been walked through a half empty dining room and put into a completely separate dining room. Alone.
I’m never one to make a scene, so I just enjoyed the dinner with friends and our WELL-BEHAVED children, but deep down, I was annoyed. We parents spend most of our waking hours tending to someone else and all of their (endless) needs, and the one time we want to go out to be around humans that didn’t go barreling down our birth canals, people whose asses we’ve never wiped, and we get shoved into the back away from everyone, because GOD FORBID we bring children into an establishment that welcomes children.
Not only did our social time suffer, but so did our service. Without going into too many details, I can tell you that we absolutely got the shaft, and not just based upon where we were sitting.
This isn’t the first blog I’ve written about the dirty looks parents get in restaurants if their child makes any noise above a whisper, and I’m not going to go on some rant about how parents and kids get treated unfairly these days, because it would fall on deaf ears. All I’m saying is before you stick baby in the corner, along with baby’s family, remember that you were once baby, too- and Patrick Swayze didn’t pop out of the kitchen to stand up for you, and no one will for us either. No one should have to. Don’t put ANYONE in the corner.
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He only has himself to blame pic.twitter.com/UffL59jSmz
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