During a recent outing, I found myself in a rather intense situation at a restaurant while eight months pregnant with my third child. After a long Sunday service, my mother and I decided to treat ourselves and my lively 18-month-old twins to some tacos, despite the heartburn that would inevitably follow. We settled into a bustling family-friendly restaurant, hoping the nearby college students would be understanding of the chaos my little ones might create.
As we dined, I was pleasantly surprised by how well my twins behaved. Sure, they were playing with sugar packets and reaching for the salt and pepper, but they were relatively calm—a small miracle for us. Just as I thought we were in the clear, I caught my mom casting disapproving glances at the nearby group. “Are they giving us a hard time about the kids?” I asked her. “Well, that one keeps looking over here,” she replied, pointing at a young woman.
In an instant, my protective instincts kicked in. I turned to glare at the group, silently daring them to say something. To my relief, they quickly diverted their attention back to their table. We continued enjoying our meal until it came time to clean up the remnants of our dining experience.
Alone at the table, I felt their stares return. Annoyed, I confronted the young woman: “Do you have a problem? You’re going to hurt yourself with how often you keep looking at us.” She sneered, “Yeah… that’s a really big mess,” before turning away.
Honestly, I was grateful she pointed it out. As I scrambled to pick up the sugar packets, my Braxton Hicks contractions were kicking in. I couldn’t see the “big mess” I was creating, apparently. Frustration bubbled over, and I responded with a sarcastic, “Thanks for the heads up. But I did notice you’re quite the little brat, aren’t you?”
That’s when her sister jumped in, yelling at me about the mess. I couldn’t help but laugh; it was absurd to see someone so self-righteous while claiming to be a decent person. As I approached them, I made my own credentials clear, “I’m a waitress too, and it looks like you need a lesson in kindness. Not that it’s any of your business, but this mess is nothing compared to your attitude.”
The situation escalated as I pointed out the irony of her praying before the meal, only to berate a pregnant stranger afterward. The tension in the restaurant was palpable, and as I laughed at her ridiculousness, a father with children stood up, clearly ready to support me. The table of young women began to realize they had pushed things too far. Flustered, they decided to leave, met with disapproving looks from the other diners.
I quickly apologized to those around us, feeling a mix of relief and embarrassment. They reassured me, saying, “Don’t worry, honey.” Meanwhile, I noticed that the rude woman had left a meager tip for the staff. I decided to make it right, as I gathered the sugar packets. Just then, our waiter approached, insisting I let him handle it—“Really, it’s no big deal,” he said kindly.
In the end, I learned that if you can’t handle children in a family-oriented restaurant, maybe it’s time to rethink where you dine. For more insights on the challenges of parenting, check out this post on Home Insemination Kit.
In summary, the experience reminded me how quickly situations can escalate and how supportive strangers can make all the difference. As a mom, I found strength in standing up for my family, even in the face of judgment.