Tonight I was reminded why we almost never take the kids out to eat.
My parents are in town for the weekend, and my mom and I got a wee bit carried away this afternoon perusing model homes for decorating ideas (she’s redecorating, not me, although I’ll just tell you that nothing will cause you to covet like perusing model homes, so I don’t recommend it as a regular activity) and got home too late to cook the pot roast I had/have in the fridge.
All that to say, we decided tonight would be a good night to go out for dinner.
Let’s see. How can I sum up my dinner experience succinctly? How ’bout this. I’d rather endure a root canal without novocaine that take my almost-two-year-old-who-is-already-the-poster-child-for-the-Terrible-Twos out to eat at a sit-down restaurant again.
And I bet the rest of the patrons who were present during our dinner outing this evening would probably rather endure a root canal without novocaine than to eat in the same restaurant as my almost-two-year-old-who-is-already-the-poster-child-for-the-Terrible-Twos ever again.
She was THAT loud.
Let’s just say that I don’t think we’ll be eating out with the kids again at least until the Terrible Twos are behind us. Of course, after that come the Tyrannical Threes and the Ferocious Fours, so maybe we should just put our dining out on hold indefinitely.
I think I’ll remember this time.