Recently, I treated myself to a night at a hotel in New Haven, Connecticut, and it was nothing short of heavenly. I arrived at 9 PM, indulged in a couple of small bags of chips, sipped on club soda, flipped through TV channels, and enjoyed a peaceful sleep. I woke up when my body felt ready, did some yoga, and had a rather underwhelming breakfast before heading to a book talk. It felt like paradise.
As I was enjoying this little escape, I couldn’t help but think about what it would be like if my partner, Lisa, was with me. We could relax, cuddle, maybe even rekindle some romance. Though, we might just need to ask the bellhop for a few tips—after all, I bet they know a thing or two about keeping the spark alive.
However, the bliss was short-lived. Upon returning home, we were thrown into chaos. Our day began at a three-year-old’s birthday party, where we completely forgot to ensure our two boys had a proper lunch amidst the festivities. Fast forward to our arrival back home, and we found them at the kitchen table, bordering on meltdown. They were like powder kegs waiting to explode.
Then came the news: our babysitter, the one our boys adore, canceled on us. Lisa was crushed. We broke the news to the boys, and the reaction was immediate: Noah erupted into tears, and little Benji quickly followed suit. Lisa scooped up Benji while I tried to calm Noah. After a bit of coaxing, he settled down with some tuna, and Benji soon followed suit.
Post-lunch, the boys enjoyed a brief moment of joy playing and putting on a puppet show. We seized the opportunity to formulate a plan: a trip to the playground followed by a dinner out.
The playground was a hit, but then came dinner—our biggest blunder of the day. We opted for our usual date spot, known for its delectable Belgian fries and duck gravy for dipping.
After parking and being seated, we eagerly placed our orders. Noah’s mac and cheese arrived just as Benji’s shrimp did. Of course, Benji spotted Noah’s noodles and craved them. Noah, not one to share, erupted into a full-blown tantrum. This prompted Benji to join in, creating a cacophony in a restaurant filled with patrons sipping $9 glasses of Shiraz. I glanced across the table and found Lisa hiding beneath her napkin—yes, literally, as if it were a giant sombrero.
To add to the scene, since she had left her sweater in the car, she had draped Noah’s sweatpants over her shoulders like an impromptu shawl. Quite a sight!
With Noah’s refusal to share the mac and cheese, I intervened and told him to give Benji some noodles. After some negotiation, we ordered more. The boys devoured both portions, and I, feeling like a sailor in a bar, kept the orders coming.
Eventually, the boys finished, but Lisa had barely touched her steak, and I couldn’t even remember finishing my chicken. The check arrived, and we realized it was the most expensive meal we’d ever had—yet we were left feeling queasy from the stress of it all.
The takeaway? Sometimes parenting is a wild ride, and maybe, just maybe, skipping lunch isn’t the best idea. It certainly would have made our evening a lot smoother.
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In summary, parenting is an adventure filled with unexpected challenges, and ensuring the little ones are well-fed can make a world of difference.
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