It's Screaming Kid Night at IHOP

I messed up on my dinner plans, I thought we would be eating with my parents Sunday night instead of our regular Chinese delivery, but my mother had a stomach virus. So when my husband asked what was for dinner tonight, I blanked out and gave him my backup emergency dinner plan - spaghetti and meatballs. Which I don't eat, but it makes him very happy.

So he got out the big 8 quart pot, filled it half full of water, started the burner, and even got the meatballs out of the freezer. Then it hits me - we don't have any pasta sauce, I used the last jar a few days ago. And I don't have any spaghetti... crap. I've got meatballs and water, not good enough.

So off we went to IHOP, where the waitresses have our orders memorized. We each took our own cars, I'll shop for real groceries after dinner. We also have our favorite boothes, which we always scope out when we walk in to see which one will be the quietest. Booth to the right - screaming kid. On the left - more screaming kids. The smoking area is quiet, but the sun is blasting in the windows, and, well, it's the smoking area. OK, to the right but back near the kitchen, it shouldn't be that bad two boothes away...

Jesus H Christ! We had completely deaf parents on both sides of us and several toddlers competing to see which one could scream the loudest. My back was to them, which actually made me sort of nervous but was probably a good idea because I have trouble "pretending to ignore" ear-splitting children. Besides being annoying, they cause me actual physical pain, I visually wince when they make that "Memorex" noise (that can shatter crystal?). Finally one of the families finished eating, then went out into the lobby where their kids just went frigging bonkers screaming and running around, bouncing off the windows. Whee!!! more sugar!! After about 3 or 4 more minutes of daycare run amok they went out and got in their minivan and drove away.

OK, just one kid left, maybe he'll be quieter while I finish my french toast and bacon. No, he actually got louder, yelling repeatedely at his mother and (I think) older sister, "Read me a story! Read ME A STORY!!". Then he somehow got out of the booth and starts running up and down the aisle, spewing toddler germs into the air hacking and coughing like an old man. On about his third run-by our booth I finally said "GO AWAY!" which he actually did. I don't care if anyone thought I was rude, I say:

As we were finishing up our dinner, Damien the demon toddler and his family left, and my husband looked at me and said "I'm so glad you didn't want kids!'. Likewise, in my 20's all I found were men who wanted "big families". I'm missing that mommy gene, always knew it, I never even did babysitting. I'm totally clueless and quite content to remain that way.

So off I went, in my nice clean, perfect car and bought hundreds of bucks worth of groceries for me, my husband and my cat (who was crying at the door when I got home).

Posted by Morticia at September 14, 2004 03:09 AM | TrackBack