You know what really grinds my gears? It’s dating women with small children. Last week I landed myself a date with a younger woman. I thought I was so lucky. I was planning on taking her out to dinner at a restaurant called “The Water Wheel.” It thought it was going to be great. She had other ideas. It seems her baby sitter backed out at the last minute and we were a party of four instead of two. Ugh!
Okay, so we drove out to the Water Wheel. It’s about ten miles out of town. Naturally, all the way I was listening to, “Are we there yet? Are we there yet?” She just told me to ignore them. Didn’t work. Then of course there’s the standard, “Mom! Jackson is making faces at me!” and “Mom! Madison is on my side of the car!” Grrrr.
After what seemed like two hours, we finally arrived. We went in, and got seated. My date told me, “When you have kids, the first thing you tell the server is NO WATER! Because while the kids are waiting there are fantastic things they can do with water and sooner or later you’ll hear a CLUNK, and they’ll be water everywhere. So no water.” Makes sense.
Anyone who has ever taken kids to a sit down restaurant has surely at one point noticed their little heads waggling back and forth and you wonder what is causing that. Then you look under the table and you see their legs swinging back and forth, back and forth. Oh, and one of them is always kicking the pole: BONK! BONK! BONK! That’s when the wife turns to her husband and says, “Tell them to be quiet!” Fortunately, not being my kids that was one thing I was spared. SHE was the one who told Jackson to stop kicking the pole.
Anyway, when the server came I ordered for myself, she ordered for herself, and nothing for the kids. I’m like, WTF? You’re not going to feed the kids? She told me that she never feeds the kids at sit down restaurants. She said that for the stupid high prices they charge, she’s not going to order food for a seven year old and a five year old and watch them swirl it around on their plate, drop it on the floor, pick it up (after being told) and then have them whine, “I don’t want any more!” The kids have to wait.
So, our food came, we ate it, and even ordered dessert. Then we got up, I paid the check, then we put the kids in the car and took them to McDonald’s! That really makes sense. Young kids like that don’t want meat, potatoes, and a veggie. They want a freaking Happy Meal! Smart thinking.
Oh, if anyone is wondering why we didn’t go to McDonald’s first, she said she needed something to hold over their heads so they would behave at the restaurant. That was really smart!
Now, don’t get me wrong. I like kids. I just prefer to like them from very far away.
Next time I’ll have a real report. Stay safe and Hail Victory!
American Nazi Party