This post may make me unpopular, but it’s my opinion and I’m sticking to it. It’s funny, because I’m sure people will think that this post is about someone else’s kids, when in fact this post is all about my kids.
Last night I had a great idea that I would take my sweet little angelic daughters to dinner at the local True Foods. If you’ve been to the restaurant before, you know that they’re usually big, occasionally loud, and kid friendly. This is why I though it would be a perfect spot to take the girls to dinner. I was sure that there would be other families there and that the restaurant would be bustling and hustling in preparation for the dinner rush. I assumed that we could be in and out quickly and unnoticed by other patrons because, usually, my kids are a waiter’s dream.
I got one part of that assumption right. We definitely were in and out very quickly, but not by my choice. When we got there, my four year Annabelle, was bouncing off the wall with her overly tired energy from a day at preschool. My 11 month old, usually sweet and demure, was screaming at the top of her lungs like she was at a Beyonce concert, but not in the good “yasss queen” kinda way.
This cycle of Annabelle’s crazy antics and Isla’s Maury Povich “You are not the father” kind of screeching continued for the next 2o minutes or at least until my margarita ran out. After sucking the ice cubes dry from my cocktail, I decided to throw up the white flag and concede. When I just had Annabelle, I would’ve stayed and toughed it out to prove a very valuable life lesson to her that sometimes we have to sit in boring places and doing boring shit. Now that I have two little ones, I am outnumbered. I’m officially tapping out… check please!
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