Alternative title: Does dippy qualify as a food item?
Not this past Sunday but the Sunday before that, Rich and I needed to run an errand and in order to allow the girls some outside playtime, we determined that the best time would be around dinnertime. I immediately thought that we could feed the girls a quick dinner and stop for ice cream on the way home. Rich suggested dinner out. In a restaurant. After our experience last month at Wendy's, I agreed.
I chose the Outback because it is a bit dark in there and I thought (foolishly) that we could hide. And as we drove by, I realized that it had been years since I had stepped foot in one. Rich ran in to ensure that 1.) there was no wait and 2.) that they had three highchairs. Check and check.
What I found to be funny was that as we pulled into the parking lot, the girls announced that they wanted french fries and dippy for dinner. They've eaten out twice in the past six months and we hardly ever feed them french fries at home. It's amazing what their little minds can come up with.
Now, I must admit that this is where having three cuties helps you out. The waitstaff was extremely attentive and I know that part of it was due to it being a slow night but I like to think that part of it was due to the cuteness.
The girls were so well behaved. It was amazing. There was no whining, no crying, no fighting, no grumpiness. There were a lot of smiles and giggles. They ate some bread and colored in their courtesy coloring books with their courtesy crayons and then they shared two kiddie meals with chocolate milk. Although, Allie decided that dippy on her finger would be a part of her meal. Hmmm.
Of course, it wouldn't be a trip outside of the cocoon without a million questions and comments. I honestly didn't mind though. When I went to the restroom, I caught some of the waitstaff standing off to the side watching the girls. I was then accosted with questions on my way back to the table. How old are they? What are their names?
This post isn't flowing as well as I would like it to. I usually end up writing through crying, talking, television, conversations, requests, phone calls and food breaks. Rich posted on his blog last week about our Outback experience. I must admit - his post is better than mine. But this isn't a competition. It's parenting.