The Cutest Moocher

Going out to eat with your littles is always an adventure. My husband and I are big foodies. We used to love to go out to eat, try new places and new cuisines. Now going out to eat usually involves my husband whisper shouting empty threats, spilled drinks, the kids hanging over the back of the booth trying to spark conversations with the unfortunate soul trying to eat their meal in peace and me crawling under the table to find the damn binky and picking up the enormous pile of food that our kids have left behind. Half of which I’m pretty sure isn’t all ours, but I don’t want to be “those people” so I clean. After swearing off never going out again, we do and it’s the same madness. However, it gets a little easier as they get older. So there is light at the end of the curry, I mean tunnel. Ohh curry sounds delicious. With school starting tomorrow I told O (4) that we could celebrate by going out to eat. I made the mistake of asking her where she wanted to go, because it’s always one of two place Chick-Fila or McDonald’s. I’ve got to give it to her, they have the best play areas. I’m sorry I mean Old McDonald’s according to O. Today we headed to Chick-Fila to meet up with some good friends for lunch. As I was waiting in line to order, I noticed a homeless man sitting alone at a table trying to sleep. Which is a hard thing to do when there are a million screaming hangry kids running around. Mine included. I was thinking to myself I should get him a meal or maybe a gift card, so he could use it whenever. Then I see my friend laughing, I mean really laughing. So of course I had to lean out of line to see what she is laughing at and I see my middle child M (2) sitting with a random family, eating and talking away like they were life long friends that just so happen to run into each other. I jump out of line, run over and scoop her up. I’m apologizing profusely, as I’m prying a french fry out of her tiny yet extremely strong hand. Then I find myself trying to hand back the freshly chewed fry. Gross. Luckily they were extremely gracious and thought this was hilarious and kept telling me how cute she is. Cute yes, but I apparently need to work with her on social boundaries a little more. I was still mortified and swore to them I do really feed her once in a while. I think they believed me, however they made me keep the fry. Luckily our food showed up shortly after this whole ordeal and M was satisfied. Then I remember the poor homeless man I was going to feed and he was gone. Guess it was a sign that I needed to focus on feeding my own kids so they don’t have to beg for food in restaurants.