I know you were thinking you were a cool, compassionate man, sitting there with your coworkers and your cool tags,enjoying your business lunch, sipping on Diet Coke. Hey, I would have even toasted your choice of beverage –mine too!– as the choice for us eternal dieter types.
Except that you wouldn't stop staring at me. Or, more specifically, at Don Meow.
For those of you who haven't recently scraped extraneous child-related goop from your clothes, allow me to fill you in on something: teeth, for all their food-chopping and tag-removal virtue are quite a pain in the ass when they are erupting out of the gums of your seven-month old. My seven-month old, who is quite the drooler and I am beginning to suspect has been actually teething since the day he was born –either that or he is quite dramatic in all his elocutions– has been exceedingly cranky on account of his lower right incisor starting to strain those precious velvety pink gums.
The poor little sweetie. One moment he's happy as can be, and the next he is like a rabid dog, shoving anything he can into his painful maw and biting down to make the pain go away.
And this was what you were witnessing, sir.
Not that I could have conveyed any of this with my eyes or my mind, really, as I was far too busy shushing the kid and shoving anything I could into his mouth to prevent him as much as possible from hollering anymore.
But then you'd look at me, even as I busily tried to hide behind the miserable baby. And you'd keep looking at me, making me uncomfortable with that vague expression of contemptuous pity that you shone my way like an unwanted beacon.
Don't do that.
Uncool. And obnoxious. Grr. I’ve become one of those cranky types who stares back and says things like, “Yes? Can I help you with something?”
I hope those teeth come in quickly so the saliva fountain and unhappiness ends!!
You took a screaming child into a restaurant at lunch time and you’re wondering why people were staring at him?
He wasn’t screaming when I took him in, but Guy had already locke eyes with
us. Maybe he knew this would happen… or was willing it to do so….
*twirls evil mustache*
Been there, done that, smiled charmingly at anyone who looked my way. If they can’t handle one of the messier facts about babies that’s their problem, not mine. 🙂
boy, it sounds like moms and small children clearly shouldn’t go out for lunch. something tells me you didn’t go somewhere upscale like Bis or Sonoma. Then, I guess he would have been tossing breadsticks on the floor.
I’ve seen the drool (and the rasberries) and if anything, they should inspire a smile and perhaps a loaner handkerchief! 🙂
If you were at Chucky Cheese, fine. If you were at a decent restaurant then I guess I do take exception to what you’re saying.
My husband’s philosophy was, when the baby started to cry, he took her out of the restaurant. If she wouldn’t stop, he left.
People go out to lunch at a restaurant because they want a break, they want to relax and enjoy themselves. They can’t do that with a screaming child nearby.
Hey, agree to disagree. Something tells me that, even if you were
inconvenienced by a baby’s cries, you still wouldn’t go out of your way to
stare at someone who is already embarrassed enough about what’s going on and
being proactive. Incidentally, I did end up stepping out of the
restaurant. I don’t like others’ babies crying any more than anyone else,
but a little kindness never hurt anyone– especially someone who is already
getting overwhelmed, you know?
Mean readers — STOP! This is a mother, and one who writes well, of a seven-month old baby. Ease up. That man probably was dreaming of his own child that he has never held and he was probably contemplating going home and holding his baby who is now sixteen.
I remembering when my little girl used to shove the entire front of her little dress into her mouth, and chew it into a drooly mess.
Sending good vibes your way.
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