I paid forty bucks for this?

We went out to lunch yesterday with some friends. Elijah screamed almost the whole time. Caleb, who is being potty trained, felt the urge to go just as the food arrived. Heather had already taken him once before. When I tried to take him into the men’s room he balked because earlier his mom had taken him into the women’s room and he thought that was the correct place to go. I had to pick him up and carry him into the men’s room as he kicked and screamed. After doing his business I failed to wash his hands EXACTLY the way his mom does. I carried him out of the bathroom just as I had carried him in. When I handed him over to his mom, she handed me Elijah who took his screaming to a higher decibel level. Of course by this time the food was cold and everyone in the restaurant was ready to vote us off of the island. When the check finally came, it was for almost forty bucks. I was tempted to stay there until the guy in the booth next to us offered to pay for it.

What’s sad about all this is that it’s not the first time it’s happened. We go through the same routine every time we eat out. After about seven days, we forget what it’s like and head back into the torture chamber. This time, when we got to the car I told Heather to sticka post-it note on the dash that said, “Don’t even think about eating out. Go to the dentist instead. Insurance will cover the bill and you’ll have more fun.”