“It was an hour past nap time, but Salty Dog Cafe was still on my husband’s To-Do List, and since I love him, or perhaps because I’m completely bonkers, we decided to brave the storm.
We carried two hangry children into the restaurant, and when the server arrived to take our drink order we were all, “Two diet cokes, an apple juice, a grilled cheese, some fish nuggets—oh and do you have some crackers?”
Parents know the struggle.
We were in the corner of the restaurant, and the baby stopped crying JUST long enough to slam down a few oyster crackers. She was in my lap, and I was maneuvering my hands around her body, inhaling a sandwich.
I started to resent my husband for entertaining this horrible idea. I’d voted for sandwiches at the condo. At least there, I could chew.
Then Nugget decided to keep getting out of his chair “to go see the water”, and frankly I was about to pull a Jesus at the Marketplace and send some tables flying.
Then my husband took the baby, handed Ben the fish basket and said “Hey, son. Why don’t you have a picnic by the window?”
I must’ve looked at him like he was growing horns.
Great idea, hon. Let him eat on the filthy restaurant floor!
But I was desperate and on the brink, so that’s exactly what my son ended up doing.
In seconds, both kids were happy and the meal that started off like a trip through a broken car wash started to feel like a memory in the making.
Conversation changed to, “Remember how we were here just 11 years ago on our honeymoon?”
Stress turned to laughter.
I began to actually chew.
And chaos suddenly became a special memory.
We dropped the bar.