As I approached the final month of my third pregnancy, I was feeling fatigued, uncomfortable, and more than ready to indulge in some tacos, even if they would spark heartburn. After attending church one Sunday, my mother and I decided to take my 18-month-old twins out to a local restaurant that felt like a small oasis for expectant mothers.
Upon our arrival, we were seated in a bustling area next to a group of college students who bowed their heads to pray before their meals. I couldn’t help but hope they would be understanding of my energetic twins (a thought no parent should have to entertain in a family-friendly establishment). Despite the inevitable chaos that came with having young children, they were surprisingly well-behaved, playing with sugar packets but not causing too much trouble. In fact, this was the first outing where my twins had managed to sit relatively still and allow me and my mom to enjoy our food. A round of applause was in order for that!
As we were savoring our meals, I caught my mother giving disapproving glances at the students nearby. Knowing her as I do, I couldn’t resist asking, “Are they giving us a hard time about the kids?”
“Well, one of them keeps looking over here and shooting us dirty looks,” she replied.
In that moment, my inner Mama Bear took over, and I turned to glare back at them. I was ready for a confrontation if they dared to say anything before I finished the delicious arroz con pollo I had been longing for. Their heads turned back to their meals upon noticing my fierce stare. Thank goodness for that!
After finishing our meals, my mom took the twins to the car while I stayed behind to tidy up and settle the bill. As I bent down to clean up the remnants of sugar packets, I could feel their eyes on me again. Frustrated, I finally confronted them, “Do you have an issue? You’re going to hurt your neck with how often you keep looking over here.”
The youngest of the group had the audacity to respond, albeit quietly, “Yeah… that’s a really big mess,” before turning away.
Oh, how I appreciated her input! Apparently, I was too negligent to realize the mess I was cleaning up while dealing with Braxton Hicks contractions.
Feeling my face flush and my temper rise, I couldn’t resist delivering a sharp retort, “Thanks for pointing that out. But I couldn’t help but notice you’re quite rude yourself, aren’t you?” (I really emphasized that last word.)
Just then, the big sister of the group jumped to her defense, shouting at me, “DON’T YOU DARE TALK TO MY SISTER LIKE THAT! I’m a waitress, and your kids’ mess is unacceptable!” Her voice echoed through the restaurant, drawing attention from the surrounding tables.
I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation while still cleaning up the mess. They definitely weren’t going to feel justified in their judgment. I stood up, took a deep breath, and approached her, realizing this was the first time they could truly see my pregnant belly. Her expression shifted from smug to startled.
“It just so happens that I’m a waitress too. A much nicer one than you, obviously. My husband’s family owns several restaurants in this city. This mess isn’t an issue; you are,” I stated, standing toe-to-toe with her.
At that moment, it became clear that we had an audience—most of whom were parents themselves, and they were all silently rooting for me. I pointed out the irony of her praying before a meal while being so unkind to a pregnant stranger. Unsurprisingly, my words didn’t sit well with her.
She attempted to shift the conversation back, “Don’t talk to my sister like that or else…”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at the ridiculousness of it all, asking, “Or else what? What are you planning to do to me?”
It was then that a father with three small children stood up, clearly disturbed by the confrontation. The mood in the restaurant shifted, and it dawned on her that she had crossed a line. She hesitated, then muttered to her friends, “L-l-let’s just go, guys!”
As they departed, the other diners shot them disapproving looks. I quickly apologized to the surrounding tables for the unexpected drama, but they reassured me, “Don’t worry about it, dear.” They clearly understood the stress of dining with children.
Reflecting on the encounter, I couldn’t help but notice that the very waitress who was so concerned about the mess left a paltry tip for her server. Being the mom I am, I made sure to rectify that. As I continued to clean, our waiter approached, took my hand, and said, “Leave it! I’ll handle it. It’s no big deal.”
My takeaway? If you can’t handle children in a family-friendly restaurant, perhaps you should choose a bar or a place without a kids’ menu. Otherwise, be prepared for a mama bear who won’t hesitate to defend her cubs against unwarranted judgment.
For more insights on pregnancy, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy and home insemination from the CDC. If you’re interested in further reading, visit this insightful post about managing conflicts in public spaces.
Summary:
In a crowded restaurant, a pregnant woman faces criticism from a group of college students regarding her children’s mess. Despite their judgment, she stands her ground and receives unexpected support from other diners. The confrontation escalates, highlighting the importance of kindness and understanding in family-friendly spaces.