August 23rd, 2009
We just returned from dinner out with my parents, my hubby, and my child. I think the “flavor” of the evening can perhaps be captured in Josh’s stern pronouncement when we returned: “Miss Mouse — you’re grounded.”
Yup, we were “that family” with the obnoxious child. In my defense, Miss Mouse had done really well in previous trips to restaurants. She sat quietly in her chair, munching on cheerios and charming the wait staff.
Tonight she refused to sit in the chair, squirming, fussing and ultimately shrieking her dismay. She tried to grab and fling everything within range of her grubby little paws: menus, napkins, straws, silverware, fried calamari, water glasses. You get the picture.
I tried to offer her little nibbles of bread sticks and pasta. She flung them to the floor. I tried to hold her in my lap. She shrieked. It wasn’t pretty.
I finally gave up and beat a hasty retreat. She and I slunk outside and played on the benches until the civilized members of the family finished their (mediocre) meals. Sigh.