in honor of Father's Day, i will tell this story about dinner friday night.
el Jefe' and i alternate weeks on whose turn it is to buy groceries, and whose turn it is to decide what our weekend meals entail. typically, we do not cook friday or saturday nights (and thursday is usually left over night). this dates back to a recommendation from counselling many years ago ... it works for us. this past weekend was el Jefe's turn.
he chose Joe's Crab Shack for our friday night outing. the place has a special meaning to us, a park for Punkin to play in, and we recently returned after banning them for several years for poor service and cold food. there was a short wait to be seated, but we had at least an hour and a half window of opportunity before Peanut's next feeding.
we should've known better when it took an eternity to get our beers and Punkin's milk ... so long that our waiter brought us water to tide us over (afterall, we live in the desert, don't ya know). we ordered Punkin's meal, and an appetizer, and figured we'd order our main courses when something showed up (beverage, food, whatever). Punkin was chair dancing, which touched my soul to see my son with no inhibitions (when do kids start to feel embarrassed?) eventually we ordered our main courses, and received our beers.
our appetizer came out before Punkin's meal. well before, in that we ate all the jalapeno crab balls and french fries and all three of us sat there and stared at the empty basket and wished for more. Peanut woke up during the Macarena, and our food, not even Punkin's food, was no where in sight.
el Jefe' bounced Peanut. i bounced and danced with Peanut. Punkin eventually got his food and polished off his carrot sticks. el Jefe' and i finished our beers. and as we watched our window of opportunity creep shut, we asked about our meals. our waiter informed us the oder had only been placed 10 minutes ago. we disagreed, but were held hostage. el Jefe' ordered another beer. and we bounced Peanut.
as the window of opportunity shut, our waiter tried to deliver us another couples' meal. said other couple was seated a good 4 tables after us, most likely a half hour after us. el Jefe' says we should've eat their food. still, we waited and continued to bounce our wide awake and not too happy Peanut.
Punkin announced he had a poo poo. el Jefe' went to change him, and of course, there was not a changing table in the men's restroom. our food was finally delivered, and the waiter had the nerve to ask if the boys were playing in the park. when they got back, el Jefe' let me prepare my food for one-handed eating, and then i took the Peanut while he proceeded to inhale his king crab legs. the balloon lady came by, and made Punkin an Elmo (thank God because he was bored by this time, his normal bed time). el Jefe' was obviously steaming at this point, and he is not a volatile man.
our waiter offered to pay for our drinks. el Jefe' explained that "with a baby, we have a limited window of opportunity, and frankly, our food just took too fucking long." el Jefe' finished his meal; i got a go box for my entire meal, we paid, tipped meagerly and left. i fed Peanut in the car.
so i'm really not comfortable breastfeeding in public, so maybe it's partly my fault. but are we banned from family restaurants because i'm breastfeeding? why shouldn't we be able to dine out? it's not like we went to a five star french restaurant with a seventeen course meal.
all the things that could've made the evening worse: Punkin could've needed stitches after bashing his head into the table and chairs several times. we could've gotten salmonella poisoning from our meal. we could've gotten pulled over on the way home and cited for car seat and seat belt issues, and el Jefe' could've blown over a 0.08. i guess we could've gone to jail.
el Jefe' understands me. he stood up for me, and he stood up for our family.
and my food was good, even though it was cold.
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