So, did you hear about that café owner who threw a fit because a child made a mess on the floor? Or the restaurant that decided to ban kids after 7 PM? Seriously? If you’re opening a restaurant, you can’t tell my kid that they can’t spill a little food, right? Well, turns out, I might be a little misguided on that thought.
Honestly, I feel awful when my kids turn into miniature tornadoes at restaurants. The truth is, while I’m frantically trying to keep them in their seats and ensuring they actually eat something, I’m too distracted to realize how much I might be annoying the other diners and the staff. By the time we leave, I’m like, “Thank goodness that’s over!”—definitely not the best way to end a meal.
So, here’s my open apology to any server who has had the misfortune of waiting on my family:
Dear Overworked Server,
Wow, we made it through! Just barely. I can only imagine that this was not what you envisioned when you tied on that crisp white apron at the start of your shift. So, I want to sincerely apologize for everything my family put you through. Here’s my list of regrets:
- I’m sorry my child emptied every sugar packet onto the table. I tried to tidy it up, but let’s be real—saliva and sugar don’t mix well!
- I apologize for chuckling when you mentioned cocktail specials. I know I looked like I could use a few, but good luck trying to enjoy a drink when you’re wrangling two tiny humans. I’ll take you up on that drink offer in about 18 years—or perhaps tonight if my baby monitor can reach.
- I’m sorry for the slight mishap when I laughed too hard. It’s a c-section thing, and let’s just say, sometimes things slip out. Ugh.
- I sincerely apologize for bringing my own food for the kiddos and taking up a larger table, even though I know you have a kids’ menu. But let’s just say my picky eaters would rather starve than eat chicken fingers or hotdogs. If you ever decide to add peach yogurt or Pirate Booty to your menu, let me know!
- I’m sorry for the jelly fiasco for the people who sat down after us. I should have warned you about the sticky situation under that table.
- I apologize for my child using the grated cheese shaker as a personal toy. I was too absorbed in stopping the yogurt from making its way into my purse to notice.
- I’m sorry my kid was glued to Caillou on the iPad during dinner, turning the volume all the way up. I have no idea why he’s four and still bald or why his mom is just referred to as “Mommy.” And by the way, this would have been an excellent moment for you to suggest those cocktails again.
- Sorry for the disaster zone of peas and Cheerios under the highchair when we left. I swear we didn’t bring a piñata!
- I apologize for the wall incident. If you haven’t found it yet, just wait—you will.
- I’m sorry we might have scared off the table of adults beside us. But who really wants to serve a bunch of rich folks drowning in their drinks anyway, right?
- I regret those death glares I shot your way when you casually mentioned dessert. Moms are basically experts at lip-reading!
- I’m sorry for unbuttoning my pants at the table and forgetting to do it back up. I thought I’d dress up in real pants for once, but that was a bad idea, huh?
Anyway, that’s it. I hope you can treat yourself with the generous tip we left because you truly earned it.
See you next week!
Warmly,
A Chaotic Parent
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