No Restaurant Years


The other night we went out for sushi… Well, we tried to go out to sushi. We finally had that moment that all of our parent friends warned us about. We, Mr. Wonderful, myself and our two munchkins, had a 15 minute wait in the lobby, and then by the time we sat down… We had missed our window. And by that I mean, two very unhappy, angry little people belting out blood curdling screams in an obnoxiously small space. We didn’t even get officially seated in the booth before we gave each other those “what in the hell were we thinking” eyes. So we each grabbed a kid and shamefully slinked out of the restaurant as if we were the only parents in the world that couldn’t control our kids for one measly meal.
The truth is, we may have officially entered the “no restaurant years” that we have heard so much about. For me, with a history as a server, I know how annoying those families are. So even if the people around me are completely not annoyed, I’m so hyper aware of the situation that I’m annoyed for them and extremely uncomfortable.
It’s a sad day. We eat out A LOT, embarrassing amounts of eating out to be honest. So now I feel faced with a challenge to fill four nights a week with a home cooked meal (that Mr. Wonderful will cook) but still, we have to plan now, think ahead to have something defrosted… Blah blah blah…. I hate cooking!
I hope these ‘no restaurant years’ fly by, because I sure do love to be served!
Wish us luck, but in case you do see us out at a restaurant, asked to be seated far away from our madness.

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