Let The Woman Eat a Hot Meal

Man epiphanies (Part 2)
Let The Woman Eat a Hot Meal
By Paul Wicker

I eat very quickly. Please don't email me with information about how bad that is for this temple that I call my body. I know all the hoopla about stomach ailments, but I still choose to eat quickly. On the other hand, my wife eats extremely slowly. I think in the cosmic balance -- the yin and yang of the universe -- we are a matched set. My wife also LOVES to eat out. These issues were not problems until we had kids.

McDonald's has done an amazing job of attracting young people to their colorful plastic environs complete with "hose it down" at night floor tiles. For many years, McD's was on the top of the "Where do you want to eat?" list for my kids. I got that response 9 out of 10 times and I was not even asking them. I remember a time when I the drive through personnel knew me by name. Even with this minor notoriety, I still had to check to make sure they put the apple pies in the bag.

There comes a time in every young family when Mom and Dad have had their fill of fractional pound burgers served by smiling red-haired clowns. They feel the need to sit down in a restaurant and actually be waited upon by someone, preferably someone out of high school. As a young dad, I can remember thinking that eating out should not have to be an "event" replete with babysitters and prepared bottles and bedtimes. We should be able to take our kids out in public and enjoy the evening like normal folk -- famous last words. Unfortunately, most nice restaurants do not cater to the little people crowd.

When we braved the restaurant scene, we were always shown to one of the back booths. We were cheerfully provided with a booster seat and a rickety high chair. To prove that their hearts were in the right place and to appease their legal counsel, the high chair came equipped with its own safety belt. To ensure safety and to provide the basis for "we told you so" in the event of a lawsuit, a warning label was also plastered to the front of the chair that pictured a baby being pitched to the floor. It said, "Do not leave baby unattended". This graphic visual always helped us to enjoy a pleasant meal.

The booster seat was a double sided – small hiney on one side, big booty on the other – affair that did not sit well on the cushion of the booth. My son always considered it a minor carnival ride and he always enjoyed "danger eating". This was no problem, as I would typically hold it in place with my foot stretched across the seat. I could rely on my leg falling asleep before the main course arrived.

In the interest of helping young parents, listed below are my guidelines for eating out with small children. These were gleaned from many hard and sometimes painful and wet experiences. Fortunately, we moved around a lot when my kids were growing up so we had a fresh batch of uninitiated restaurants to choose from over the years.

1- Introduce the waiter/waitress to your kids. Remind them that kids have SHORT ATTENTION SPANS. You might want to say this several times as your wait staff also has a very short attention span. Tell them that your evening will be limited to what the kids can stand.

2- Don't let the waiter/waitress get away. Order your drinks and meals at the same time. Learn the name of the waiter/waitress so that you can scream it across the restaurant when necessary.

3- Be on your guard when the food comes. When they place food on the table, they ALWAYS underestimate the reaching potential of little hands. They also ALWAYS bring more plates than you have remaining table space. Dump whatever you can onto one plate and hand the extras immediately back to the waiter/waitress. VERY IMPORTANT – Make sure you have both hands free to defend that "be careful this plate is very hot" dish as they place it on the table.

4- Finally and most importantly, LET THE WOMAN EAT A HOT MEAL. Most men I know could care less about eating out. In fact, half the husbands I know would rather take a beating than eat out at a nice place. The other half will only go if there is a promise of a "reward", but then again, that is what started this whole mess in the first place. We men never learn.

It took me a few years to realize that my wife was trying to cut her steak and eat while trying to feed the baby and attempting to keep the other kid from spilling his drink across the table again (tablecloths are just big napkins anyway). I would always eat quickly and then mostly just sit and wonder why she was taking so long. TAKE OVER THE KIDS STUFF WHEN YOU GET DONE – OR EVEN BEFORE. She enjoys this more than you do, so let her have the time.

Oh, one last item – when you leave, tip HUGE. Leave cash and place it in clear view on the table. When the entire cleaning crew is called out to scrape up the small mountain of food your clan left on the floor and everywhere, you want them to first see a little pile of cash. After the embarrassment of the evening fades into a dull memory, you might want to be allowed back in that restaurant again. Especially when you get tired of selecting your menu based on which fast food spot has the best play area.

Good luck.

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As father of three, Paul Wicker has experienced parenting from all sides. He recently ended a twenty year career in the oil business to start freelance writing and now he is working from home. He has several other business interests that also keep him busy.
Email Paul at pwicker@houston.rr.com

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