Friday Dinner Adventure

I don't know about you, but I wait around all week for Friday to show up. Friday is the BEST - with its invitation to begin a weekend of slacking, napping, shopping and junk food. And what better way to kick-off the fun-fest than a family dinner-outing?

Today, after work, MG and I pack up Picklebug and head to a small diner on the edge of town for a quick burger. Nothing fancy. Just some good 'ol greasy food. (Bonus: MG says if I'm good and don't criticize his driving on the way over or make a big deal out of the waitress forgetting my side of ranch dressing he'll take me to DQ for a peanut butter cup blizzard!)

As we pull into the parking lot we notice that Picklebug has fallen asleep in his car seat. SCORE! Sleeping Picklebug = stress free dinner! We head in, grab a cozy booth and begin sharing a little with one another about our day. The waitress strolls over to hand us some menus and I glance over at PB - still asleep! - so I take a peek at the appetizer menu.

But then one eye opens...

Okay, I think, I'll skip the appetizer (just in case) and order a burger - quick and safe!

At this point both eyes are open and Picklebug is grunting for attention. MG gets him out of the carrier to keep him entertained and for the most part he seems happy. He's looking around, smiling, drooling and trying to eat a napkin. Nearby old ladies are definitely impressed with his cuteness. But after about 7 minutes of happy cooing, something clicks in his little baby brain. He senses that it is Friday. He knows we are in public. He can tell that our food is on its way.

Suddenly his face reddens, his lip curls, he takes a deep breath in and... game over.

Just as the waitress slides the plates onto the table, he lets out a pitiful wail. The sound fills the restaurant and draws the attention of our fellow patrons. There is no consoling him. We are defeated. Between sobs MG politely asks for two boxes and the check and I begin packing Picklebug into his car seat. I can feel the empathetic stares as I hang my head and walk toward the exit.

For the car ride back I crank up the music so I don't have to hear the tantrum taking place in the back seat. MG reaches over and pats my knee as he mutters something about how it won't be like this forever and that eventually Picklebug will be old enough for us to drug him with benedryl before we go out.

Yeah yeah.

Five minutes later we are home. And as we pull into our parking space in front of our house I notice that the little monster is once again asleep in his car seat.

So we do what any smart parents would do. We let the baby sleep and we eat our burgers out of styrofoam takeout boxes. Right there. In our car. In our own darn parking lot.

Ah, parenthood. Who knew it would be so much fun?