Sunday was a great day.  My husband and I went for a drive with our 4 year old daughter late in the morning and ended up at PF Chang’s on Westheimer for brunch.  There is a great stretch of windows that overlooks the parking lot – while we waited for our food we watched the parade of the super-expensive SUVs motoring in to the entrance of valet parking.  Somehow my daughter thought we were talking about “ballet” parking, and we all had visions of ballerinas parking Humm-Vees. 


The family seated next to us appeared to be having a somewhat less relaxing lunch.  Mom and Dad were out with their three year old daughter and 18 month old twin boys.  The restaurant was packed, service was slow, and the little boys were banging their silverware in anticipation of food.  I looked my husband and said, “That family is going down.”


Sure enough, five minutes after their food arrived, the boys had finished eating and were looking for new adventures.  One twin began finger painting the window with the contents of his plate.  The other grabbed the edge of the table and began to rock it back and forth.  Gradually building up momentum, he suddenly heaved it forward, knocking his mom’s lunch into her lap.  We did try not to laugh.  Dad sprang into action, and shoved the child’s high chair away from the table.  Isolated, he began to do barnyard animal imitations at the top of his lungs.  My daughter remarked, “That kid is cracking me up.”  Finally, the family couldn’t stand it anymore and asked for the check.  After they left, it looked like a small explosion of rice had occurred under their table. 


All I could do was to look on sympathetically and think, “Thank God that is not me anymore.”   I would relate the tale of how our family was once (politely) asked to leave a Chili’s restaurant…but it is still too painful!