Well, asking for money…that went over like a lead balloon.
Yesterday the Tired family (minus Taxman) had a lovely playdate chez J-E with Chichimama, C & A. My kids trashed her house, ironically while my cleaning lady was at my house; AM fell in love with Lazy Cat, to the tune of leaving black-eyed Susans for her on the step of the sunporch, where she had gone to escape him; Miss M cried when we had to leave A–and all her fun stuff and princess clothes.
The kids were so busy they didn’t really snack all morning, so when we rolled into another suburb to do some kosher shopping, I knew I would have to feed them, stat. Miss M is a huge problem, because she won’t eat pizza or scrambled eggs or salad or sushi. I decided on the deli.
Scott was our waiter. Oh Scott, if only I could bring you home with us. Here’s how Scott earned his tip:
- Did not blink when I ordered a smoked turkey sandwich to split between the kids, PLAIN. Switched the rye bread (a deli standard–for good reason) for wheat bread (eh) when I requested. Did not ask if I wanted tomato, lettuce, condiments. (A lot of kids would skip the veggies, methinks.) Did not offer drinks (soda, juice, etc.) beyond the water pitcher on the table.*
- After a few minutes, popped his head in to tell us that their sandwich would be done very soon; did I want it ASAP? YES YES YES, I nodded.
- But before that he brought paper and crayons. Then the sandwich. Then the sweet potato fries.
- When he brought my food, he cheerfully ignored the mess on the table, Miss M’s deconstruction of her sandwich on her plate (yuck), AM’s half-eaten pickle. But cleared the plate, now empty of sweet potato fries, so I would have a place for my lunch.
- Brought a stack of at least 12 extra napkins after that.
- Brought the kids (free) cookies for dessert.
- When I asked for half my sandwich to be wrapped to go, saying “I think I need to quit while I’m ahead,” and pointing at the kids, he said “They were really well behaved.”**
- We left a big mess, on the table and under it.
* For all those people who have not yet experienced the pleasure of feeding toddlers, be aware that juice is basically like crack for them. It will be all they think about until they get some.
* *I have to agree, especially considering we didn’t even sit down until 1:15. But my back did not actually touch the rear of the seat (i.e. I was pretty damn busy making sure that happened) until I was signing the check. So I get some of the credit.