Table For Five

Most Sundays after church we go out to lunch. It takes us about a week to remember why taking 3 hungry, dressed up kids to a restaurant isn't always a good idea. But we are learning and adjusting. We have lowered our standards a bit - when we first started the 'tradition' I was hoping for a Norman Rockwell-esque Sunday dinner with roast beef and white tablecloths and waiters pouring ice water. We've resorted to Taco Cabana.

This Sunday we opted for a new restaurant/bar in our neighborhood. (I checked the Web site and they had a kids' menu, which to me is the universal indicator that kids are allowed. Restaurant owners - if you don't want kids in your place, don't have a kids' menu.) The patio was small but full of folks enjoying cocktails and a slow lunch. That I envy. These days, most of our meals at a restaurant are eaten with at least one of us standing up or cleaning up after someone or making trips to the bathroom. I find myself devouring every morsel of available food - the kids' leftovers, garnishes, rinds of quesadilla, pizza bones, bowls of condiments - just to get something that resembles a meal.

This particular Sunday things were going better than usual. Everyone was eating, no one was complaining, the weather was lovely. Sam ordered a hot dog with ketchup only (the server seemed a little perturbed that we didn't want the hot dog with the gourmet fixings) but it was too hot to eat when it arrived. That, and Sam has an aversion to hot food. Jake will basically gobble anything up if he's hungry enough, but lukewarm is too warm for Sam. So shortly after his hot dog arrived he yelled, "Will someone blow my wiener?" Since Bryon and I both started laughing, Sam assumed he should do it again ... and again ... and again.

So now that Sam's shouted vulgarities at this restaurant and Jake knocked over the Christmas tree at Hunky's, it looks like we're back to Taco Cabana.