November 24, 2009

Our Dinner Disaster: A What Not-to-do Guide featuring Mr. Calamity's return

Soooo, we knew it was a bad sign when both kids were whiny tonight.

Yet, we decided to try out the new Coney Island by our house.

To call this a big mistake would be like saying that Lady Gaga is strange. It's true, yet it doesn't cover the magnitude of this statement. It was terrifying. I think it's safe to say that Jacob's alter ego, Mr. Calamity, was back in full force tonight. Here is a recap, complete with all of the mistakes we made going out to dinner with our little Bees tonight.

First mistake: The hostess said to sit down wherever we wanted, so we decided to sit on the bench seats. Immediately when we sat down we knew this was a mistake. Drew jumped all over the bench seats, laying his head on the seat, and began exclaiming loudly when he saw any cars out the window across the restaurant. It was if he had eaten Mexican jumping beans, he could not sit still. He needed more structured seating, obviously. He was the least of my worries, however....

Second mistake: We let the kids pick out their drinks. Jacob ordered juice. He is notoriously obsessed with juice, and the juice we drink at home is barely juice it's so watered down. This was concentrated juice, 100% pure liquid gold juice, and to Jacob it was like crack. He drank all of his juice in the first ten minutes we were there, with Mr. B had to holding the cup for him the entire time because he doesn't understand how to drink out of a straw. (Jacob, not Mr. B, otherwise that would be another post entirely.)

Third mistake: Ordering pancakes for the little Bees. When the boy's pancake dinner finally came, Drew wanted to butter and cut his pancake. Well, I thought, that's fine, it's a butter knife, and Drew's four, I can supervise while he does this. The problem was that now because of Drew getting to butter and cut his own, Jacob wanted to do the same. Of course he needed help doing this and he screamed every time we tried to help him. Then he didn't want to eat any of his food, and started crying because he wanted to cover the butter packet, which in turn made him sad and start to cry when I covered the butter because he wanted the butter packet uncovered. If I didn't know better I would think Jacob was a trained child actor and we were on Candid Camera, he was being so out of control and ridiculous. He began to wail/cry in bursts of two intervals, like a siren.

At this point I picked him up sans jacket and dragged him outside, and we went until a Christmas decorations store, a beautiful store filled with baubles and lights and wreaths. He asked to be set down to walk through the store. I told him HELLS TO THE NO, or some child-friendly equivalent. We went back to the restaurant and he managed to eat one piece of pancake before throwing another fit. We decided to hell with eating and went to pay the bill. Once he was out of his highchair, Jacob wanted to be set down. Not wanting to cause ANOTHER scene, I relented. This would be mistake number four. Jacob, of course, started running through the restaurant.

When I tried to pick him up he started his limp body routine (you know what I am talking about), and screamed again. The older couples gave me a nasty look as I picked him up by his armpits (thereby exposing his whole belly to them) to drag him out of the restaurant again. I came very close to flipping their snooty asses off. It would complete our total white trash domination of the restaurant.

We sat in the car and Jacob wailed while we waited for Mr. B and Drew to pay the bill, wash their hands and put on their coats. This took an extraordinary amount of time. At least that's the way I felt with my screaming banshee in the car with me.

Now I am home, and I wondering, did I actually eat? Did I enjoy the food? Did Mr. B finish his meal? I don't know or remember.

I know I do remember where the Vodka is though, and really, knowing this is half the battle.

Toodles!

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