We used to go out to eat all the time… and then we had a child… and then we had another… and now we are in the year of no spending. But sometimes we break down and need a meal out. After all, we still have some gift cards we received over the holidays. Sometimes you need to put your stellar child rearing skills on display, thinking ‘what could go wrong?’ Our eldest child can color and entertain herself before her food comes and our youngest is happy to sit in a highchair and eat snacks.
Obviously, when the food comes all hell breaks loose. Plates are stacked high in an effort to keep food out of arm’s reach of the baby. Ketchup, salt, and pepper need to be placed strategically on a far corner of the table away from both kids. Wipes. So many wipes are constantly needed by both. But hey, we are doing this! We adapt. It’s a great night out… until we go to leave.
By this time there is smooshed food, a mountain of plates, and dirty wipes on the table that make it resemble some sort of mixture between Andy Warhol and Jackson Pollock. When lifting our 1-year old out of his high chair, you suddenly realize how little he ate. God bless bussers. There is no way all that food on the ground will be cleaned up in time for more guests that evening- just rope it off and let people appreciate the mess. In some culture somewhere, the mess is a sign of respect and appreciation.
All of this to say, even a good trip out to eat ends with an embarrassing mess. For a long time, I didn’t know what was worse, not acknowledging the mess, or trying to clean up as much as possible. I know we went through this with our first child, but adding another to the equation made things a little too much to manage. What we needed was a good exit strategy. We are happy to leave a larger tip to compensate for the mess, but that doesn’t make it any less embarrassing to get up and walk away from the table. I was raised to leave someplace in a better condition than when you arrived. So how do I reconcile the difference?
Well, there was no great secret that helped, but I’ve gotten over it by what I refer to as, ‘The Great Mess of 2017.’ We went out to one of our regular spots for dinner one night and every possible mess that could have been made, we made it twice. We’re talking smashed cheerios on the ground, applesauce glazing the table, spilled milk with napkin dams slowly leaking onto the ground… it was bad. I don’t know if it could get messier. When the waitress came to drop off the check, she just laughed and said it looked like the last time she went out with her kids. Parents get it. No judgement. And until you have kids, you don’t know how hard it can be- so you’re not allowed to judge.
Now, when I get up and walk out I go with my head held high. I realize people aren’t judging the mess that we made, they are simply appreciating the stage of life we are in. They’ve either been there before or will be there in the future. Everyone makes messes at some point, and if we make the mess today, they can make the mess tomorrow. It’s a mutually assured destruction of messes.
