Last Saturday was nothing short of chaotic. Our day was packed with various kid activities, starting bright and early at 8:30 AM and continuing well into the evening. Why do weekends feel so overwhelming these days?
By the time 7:00 PM rolled around, our entire family was finally gathered in one place, but we were all utterly spent and ravenous. With no energy left to whip up dinner, my husband, in a moment of heroism, offered to take us out to eat. While the gesture was truly kind, we should have remembered Rule of Parenting #312: A restaurant is the last place you want to be when kids are both tired and hungry.
Once we settled on dining out, everyone needed to change from their day-worn clothes. The older kids emerged in somewhat nicer, stain-free outfits, but I didn’t realize how far gone our youngest, Lucy, was until she pranced down the stairs. With a proud smirk, she wore a mismatched sun dress, sparkly high-heeled shoes, and an extravagant faux fur jacket. Clutching a purple vinyl purse stuffed with dolls, she raised an eyebrow at me as if to challenge my authority.
I shrugged and ushered everyone into the car. Honestly, I was too worn out to argue, and her ensemble was so hilariously offbeat that I couldn’t help but laugh.
By the time we arrived at the restaurant, it was undeniable—Lucy was in a state that could only be described as giddy. She strutted up to the hostess stand and casually grabbed a toothpick, yawning dramatically as if the entire establishment bored her. As we were led to our table, she click-clacked in her heels, daintily picking her teeth while clutching her purse like a seasoned diner.
My husband and I exchanged concerned glances. This outing was going to be a circus. We contemplated turning around, but the thought of facing an empty kitchen was even less appealing.
When the waiter approached for drink orders, Lucy beamed and exclaimed, “CHOCOLATE MILK!” as if it were an obvious choice. She promptly downed four glasses in rapid succession. As we cringed in embarrassment, she burst into song—first a ditty of her own creation, which was admittedly entertaining, followed by a tune from Les Miserables.
“Sweetheart, we don’t sing at the table,” I gently reminded her.
“DO YOU HEAR DA PEOPLE SING?!” Lucy shot back.
“Please stop. This isn’t appropriate,” I pleaded.
With a grin and slightly slurred speech, she replied, “SINGING DA SONGS OF ANGRY MEN!” Her older brother, Max, chimed in, “I love that song!”
Lucy then rested her head on the table, only to pop back up moments later with a dazzling smile. My husband, shaking his head, quipped, “It’s like dining with Judy Garland in 1969.” I nodded in agreement, my eyes wide in disbelief.
“Waiter!” Lucy called out, “I need another drink.”
The waiter appeared as if summoned by her sheer will. “What can I get you?” he asked.
“CORN DOG!” she declared, pointing emphatically, making a ridiculous face as she did so.
We all paused, taken aback by her antics.
“Did she just say horn dog?” I whispered to my husband.
“CORN DOG!” she insisted, making the same face at everyone at the table.
The waiter, clearly bewildered, confirmed, “So corn dogs it is?”
“Yes!” Lucy nodded, her eyes wild. “I HAVE THE HICCUPS NOW!”
As dinner progressed, we attempted our usual routine of sharing the highs and lows of our day—a tradition we call “Good, Bad, Silly & Grateful.” However, Lucy took charge, waving her toothpick and shouting, “IT’S TIME FOR GOOD, BAD, SILLY & GRAVY. YOU GO FIRST!”
At that moment, I chose not to notice the incredulous stares from nearby tables, nor the fact that her exhausted siblings were in stitches, which only made the situation worse.
Finally, our meals arrived, and we dug in with fervor. Moments later, I noticed a peculiar noise—an exaggerated “mmmmmmMMMMmmmmm.” I turned to see Lucy slumped in her chair, passed out with her head thrown back and her arms sprawled out, her faux fur jacket serving as a cozy blanket. It was 8:36 PM.
We hastily finished our dinner and headed home. As we settled Lucy into bed, she kicked off her high heels and mumbled something sweet about loving us before rolling over with an adorable snarl.
We love you too, Lucy.
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In summary, taking a very tired child to dinner can lead to chaotic yet humorous moments that you won’t soon forget. Just remember to choose your dining experiences wisely.
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