Last Saturday turned out to be quite the whirlwind. Our day was jam-packed with kid activities from the crack of dawn until evening. Seriously, why do weekends feel so chaotic now? By 7:00 PM, we finally managed to gather as a family, all of us utterly worn out and starving. With no energy left to whip up dinner, my partner, the Captain, heroically volunteered to take us out to eat.
While it was a sweet gesture on his part, we should’ve just ordered pizza or opted for some quick PB&Js. It turns out we overlooked Parenting Rule #312: never take exhausted and hungry kids to a restaurant.
Once we decided to go, everyone needed a wardrobe change—after a full day of play, we were all a bit disheveled. The older kids emerged in somewhat cleaner outfits, but I didn’t realize just how tired our youngest, Daisy, was until she came bounding down the stairs. She strutted in a mismatched sun dress that was several sizes too big, sparkly high-heeled shoes, and a fluffy faux fur jacket. Clutching a purple vinyl purse stuffed with dolls, she shot me a look that could only be described as smug.
I shrugged and waved them all into the car. Honestly, I was too fatigued to argue, and Daisy looked like a pint-sized diva in a hilarious way.
Upon arriving at the restaurant, it became painfully clear that Daisy was in another world. She ambled up to the hostess stand and snatched a toothpick, yawning dramatically as if everything was dreadfully boring. Once we were led to our table, she click-clacked in her heels, toothpick in hand, while her other hand clutched her purse. She even nodded at fellow diners as if she were royalty.
The Captain and I exchanged glances—this was bound to be a disaster. We contemplated heading back home, but the thought of an empty fridge kept us there.
When the waiter asked Daisy what she wanted to drink, she beamed and declared, “CHOCOLATE MILK!” as if it were the most obvious choice in the world. She then proceeded to down four of them in rapid succession. As we sat there mortified, she broke into song. First, it was an original tune (which, to be fair, was pretty epic), but then she launched into a number from Les Misérables.
“Sweetheart, no singing at the table,” I urged.
“DO YOU HEAR DA PEOPLE SING?!” she hollered back.
“Please stop! This isn’t appropriate,” I insisted.
“SINGING DA SONGS OF ANGRY MEN!” she defiantly sang. Her older brother, Leo, piped up, “I love that song.”
Daisy slurred, “Then I am tired of singing it.” She rested her head on the table for a moment, then popped back up, adjusting her faux fur collar with a smile that could light up a room.
“Good Lord. It’s like dining with Judy Garland in 1969,” the Captain remarked.
“YES!” I agreed, eyes wide with disbelief.
“Waiter, I need another drink!” Daisy called. The waiter appeared seemingly out of thin air, “What can I get you?”
“I’ll have the—” the Captain started.
“CORN DOG!” Daisy interrupted, her face contorted in a wild expression.
We all paused, taken aback by her enthusiasm.
“CORN DOG!” she insisted, pointing at me, then the Captain, then Leo, making the same crazy face each time. “Horn dog?” I whispered to the Captain.
Daisy continued, “CORN DOG.” The waiter, slightly confused, confirmed, “So, corn dogs?”
“Yes!” Daisy shouted, “I HAVE THE HICCUPS NOW.”
Dinner got even odder from there. Typically, we share our highs and lows of the day during meals, but Daisy had other plans. Waving her toothpick like a conductor’s baton, she shouted, “IT’S TIME FOR GOOD, BAD, SILLY & GRAVY. YOU GO FIRST, START WITH GRAVY!”
The stares from nearby diners were something else; meanwhile, Leo and his sister were in stitches, which only fueled the chaos.
Finally, our food arrived. We dug in with enthusiasm, but moments later, I heard a strange noise. I looked over and found Daisy out cold in her chair, head back and arms flopped out—her faux fur jacket serving as a cozy blanket. It was 8:36 PM.
We quickly finished our meals and headed home. As we tucked our little whirlwind into bed, she kicked off her heels, murmured how much she loved us, then rolled over with a snort.
We love you too, Daisy dear.
If you’re intrigued by parenting tales like this, be sure to check out some of our other posts, like the one about home insemination kits, which you can find here. And if you want to explore more about at-home insemination options, Make A Mom offers fantastic resources. For additional information on pregnancy and IVF, News Medical is an excellent place to start.
In summary, taking a very tired child to dinner can lead to a hilariously chaotic experience, where the unexpected antics of a little one can turn a simple meal into a memorable adventure.