Not Again

Kristen and I decided to go out for some dinner recently because we were both too tired to cook. As we walked toward the front door of a local chain steakhouse, I noticed a couple leaving and they looked aggravated. I chocked it up to bad service. I waited tables for three years and yes, even I had an off night from time to time. Sometimes, customers leave unsatisfied. Once we made it through the front door though, I knew it wasn't bad service that sent that couple packing. Oh gosh no. I'd recognize that shrill shrieking and wild wailing anywhere. We'd done it again. We'd picked a new restaurant and randomly shown up on Kids Night.

Kids Night is the glimmer in the eye of an obvious sadist. This sick person decided it would be a good idea to let kids eat free while simultaneously running amok and ruining dining experiences of the childless. Moms and dads develop some sort of force field that prevents any sort of common sense and disciplinary action when it comes to their kids. Parents don't need to force them to behave. What's the fun in that? They came to relax and and talk to their friends who also brought their little heathens along. Don't worry about your little runts as they double fist steak knives and threaten other patrons of the restaurant with their beady little toddler eyes. I know your game you little monster. You want to make sure my wife and I, in no way shape or form, enjoy our dinner. Mission accomplished. I appreciate the dinosaur you drew on my napkin with your complimentary crayon while your oblivious mother talks about her facial at the country club earlier that morning. I don't feel like I'm overreacting.

We are at the age that many of our friends are having kids and some of them get very irritated if we complain about maniacal misbehaving miscreants in restaurants or stores or elsewhere. Many have become quite self righteous. We're constantly told that we'd understand and not be upset if it were our kids, that we just don't "get it." Um, I'm telling you right now that if my kid ever jumps up on the table and takes a tinkle, not only will I be upset, I'll have the common decency to be mortified and would most likely never show my face at the establishment again. Of course I'd talk to the manager and let him know that my child obviously gets this specific behavior from his mother. I'd also probably give the little guy a mental fist bump for having the stones to pull off such a stunt in a public place

According to MY mother, I only ever had one outburst at a restaurant, and it was the cutest thing ever. During the dinner rush at a local restaurant, my mom was ignoring me as she talked with a friend who'd joined us. For reasons unknown, I stood up on the booth, took a hard look around the place, developed a sly grin on my face, and tooted. All conversation in the diner ceased and everyone looked towards me amazed while my mom stared at me horrified. Horrified because the toot would not stop, and it was what my friends and I like to refer to as a helicopter poot or a machine gun poot. You probably get the idea.

I'm not averse to kids. My wife and I have talked about the possibility of having our own in the near future. However, going to these Kids Night sure do serve as an indirect contraceptive. If the survival of the human race depended on us after we just got back from a Kids Night, well, better to burn out than fade away, you know what I mean?