Thursday, July 15, 2010

"But I'm a Moooooooom."

I went out to dinner last night. Going Out to Dinner is sort of an event for me. There's Grabbing Some Food, Running to Get Some Supper and Going Out to Dinner.

Grabbing Some Food means going to Little Cesar's and getting a five dollar pizza, or running to McDonald's and ordering off the dollar menu. This typically happens early in the afternoon when I have a lot of other thinsg to do that day.

Running to Get Some Supper involves any drive thru, but preferably Taco Bell, and getting a meal. I do not mean dollar menuing it up, I mean gettign a value meal, taking it home, and plopping down on the couch to watch a movie and eat.

Going Out To Dinner means puttign on real clothes and shoes, and going inside somewhere to sit down. You know, Bob Evans, some Chinese, Fazoli's, something like that. I don't do it often, and when I do, I want to have a good time.

So when I go out to eat, I don't typically enjoy it when there is a screaming toddler and a mother who is ignoring the child. I went out at about ten o clock at night to Steak and Shake (which is neither an appropriate time for a child, nor is typically a place where I would imagine a child being) to avoid that.

But no, sure enough, sitting in one of those half table/booth places, there was a very young mother with her best friend and her baby, and an adorable two year old, who refused to sit down, stop pushing her stroller, or even stop running around to other tables.

This child was so disruptive that the waitress wouldn't sit anyone else in that half of the restuarant. The mother steadfastly ignored her child until she looked over and noticed someone looking at her with a raised eyebrow or a frown.

The little girl almost tripped the waitress while she was carrying trays of hot food. When the mother denied her the right to push her stroller around, she began to howl so that my dining companion and I could not hear one another speaking.

And what got me was--who has their little kid out at ten at night to eat? This was not; "We're here because this is the only time we can come." This was; "We're here because I want time with my friend, and to hell with the rest of you."

The kid wasn't even wearing shoes. :/ That seems good and healthy, what if someone had dropped a glass and the girl stepped on it?

The mother repeatedly gae me dirty looks when she noticed me watching her child. It made me laugh because, well, it was funny. Sorry that you have a kid, I guess? But that doesn't mean that I have to enjoy that my patty melt is now tainted with your kid caterwauling.

I get really really tired when I see people go; "Being a parent is soooo haaard. Look at what a good job I'm doing. I do everything for my child. This sucks. BUT I NEVER COMPLAIN! Everything is for my child."

Here's the thing; you had a baby. I don't know the circumstances surrounding every birth, but there's a pretty good chance you made the choice to have a baby, or at the very least participate in the act that resulted in the baby. Now you take care of it, you don't get a medal for that. Everything is going to revolve around your child, because that's what a parent does. You don't get a pat on the back for doing what you are supposed to do.

This is why I don't have a child. (Even though little kids are cute as hell and I want to eat them up. I wasn't mad at the little girl, I was mad at the mother.)

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