Eating out.

 

 

Last night we ended up going out for dinner, and I really enjoyed myself.  There are plenty of meals out (which I staunchly refuse to give up, because I like people watching, and food cooked for maximum flavor with the knowledge that the consumer will never know it contains 1/2 a cup of butter per serving) where about halfway through I ardently wish I was sitting on my own couch eating a slice of frozen pizza.

 

But last night, I felt very relaxed, and the whole thing was a positive experience.

 

I would like to share with you what a "good" meal out with my offspring involves:

 

- Payne was wearing his current favorite shirt, which optimizes his mood, creating an environment ripe for success.  This shirt is a Super Man logo tee, with a detachable cape.  As you can guess, the cape never actually allowed to be detached.  The hostess admired his get-up, and Payne shot her a look that indicated she should go get her own damn cape shirt and stop ogling his.

 

- We ordered queso. Always a good decision.  Payne ate his queso drizzled chips only after picking all minute green or tomato or onion looking things off of them.  Therefore, he was wearing queso gloves shortly.  Genevieve was eating crackers dipped in queso. Crackers that were offered by Payne after he had licked the peanut butter out from between them. Yep, I dipped saliva and peanut butter trace laden crackers into the communal queso.

 

- Payne hurt his leg climbing around on his chair. There was wailing and gnashing of teeth.

 

- Dan and I had cocktails.  Mine came with a watermelon wedge garnish.  I fed it to Genevieve, and may or may not have wondered if the trace amounts of tequila would help her sleep that night.  She loves watermelon, and was frantically looking for more, so I bit off the small bits of melon close to the rind, took them out of my mouth, and fed them to her.  Then I looked up from my task to find a man at a nearby table staring at me as if he might vomit into his margarita.  I wanted to tell him "This ain't nothing.  I've scraped human excrement out from under my nails." but I figured that wouldn't help him salvage his dining experience.

 

- We didn't buy a kid's meal.  Instead, when our entrees came I scooped all of the cheese sauce off of mine and poured it over more chips for Payne, while dan mashed his beans and rice together to feed genevieve.  Then I hollowed out part of my enchilada to contribute some meat for the baby. It's not a meal with kids until you've manhandled all of your food, you know.

 

- Genevieve threw most of her dinner on the floor.  Payne refused to eat his until we were almost finished, as is his custom.  The waitress came over to ask Payne what he was eating, and he told her, as he opened his mouth to display its contents.

 

- Right as we were finishing up, Dan got a work call.  Payne was already playing on the window sill and Genevieve was totally over the high chair, so I let her down to play near Payne.  She searched the floor for scraps. I put on a good show of pretending to care that she ate food off of the floor. Payne fell and hurt his butt on the window sill. More wailing and gnashing of teeth, which was cured with the application of a complimentary temporary tattoo while Genevieve wandered under Dan's chair.

 

- Payne untied Dan's shoe as he wrapped up his work call.  We hosed both kids down with baby wipes, and we got out of Dodge with NOT ONE DRINK SPILLED.

 

This is as relaxing as it gets, folks!