Work Sista and I sat yammering away at Swiss Chalet between bites of lunch yesterday. We talked about the men in our lives, parties, work, friends... The conversation was fully animated..both of us hand talkers...
Booths are a good idea in restaurants..food can fly off a fork at any given moment and the extra barrier provides somewhat adequate protection.
Somewhat.
I remember a shorter version of The Tall One winging an unwanted pickle across McDonald's. It landed on the biggest, scariest looking meathead's table. Splat.
I stifled a laugh, being the mature mother I am, and tried to act like I had no idea what just happen as I quietly scolded the little guy.
It was not the only pickle incident.
Recall the story told previously about Red flinging his pickle at the Duckman..and how it landed perfectly in the middle of one lens of his dark cool guy sunglasses...and stuck there. And how Duckman didn't flinch or crack a smile..stern as ever as he stared through the pickle at the offender, waiting for me to take action. Rightfully so, children shouldn't behave that way. The poor lad has a freak for a mother however, and I only laughed my blessed ass off...cah'mon..that there is funny!
I must tell you though, dinner with my offspring has, in the past, proven outright dangerous.
At some point, utensils are introduced to children. Saminator's early days with the spoon were indicative of his creative nature. It was tricky actually putting the food on the spoon, so he'd simply lower his mouth to the edge of the table and use the spoon to slide the food across the table and into his open mouth. Whatever works for ya brother :).
When the fork was introduced, his creative side kicked in again. He was quick to discover that the fork doubled as a weapon..and would whip it across the table. The Tall One, who sat directly across from him became a target..and Saminator found it rather amusing when The Tall One's eyes would bulge in shock as he used his cat like reflexes to dodge the flying four pronged spear. Dude had quite an arm on him for a toddler.
We've since managed to tame the wild man, but one should still be wary.
....there is always the possibility of some poor innocent sustaining injury...it could happen anytime, to anyone...
As with my Work Brotha JL... He was cutting into a piece of crispy battered fish when the end flew off and bounced off the neighbouring table, falling harmlessly to the floor. whew! That could have ended poorly! Seated at the next table where a gangly crew of railroad workers...no doubt looking for any excuse for fun. As it were, the only thing that got hurt was JL's pride as the 6 of us that watched on howled at his misfortune. Well, the 6 of us and the railroad crew...and a couple of people that witnessed from the bar. Nice one :)
We are sure to remind him of this on occasion. Because we luv him :)
We'll be sure to get a booth for my Work Brotha next time we take him in public..as I do with my boys.
No promises though.
Consider yourself warned.
