This Is Why We Can’t Go To Nice Restaurants

You would think I’m about to complain about how whiny my kids are in public. Or how they are so picky we can only go to Pasta House. Or how they don’t know the difference between a salad and dessert fork. But really, none of those are true. My kids are generally quite easy to take out. The problem is actually with me. I’m never prepared for tough situations at restaurants, so I think we’ll just stay at home.

See, in one recent week we had two experiences that I never want to have again, and no parent should have to endure.

Picture it: It was the second to last night of Spring Break. It was a beautiful night, so a walk to a neighborhood restaurant seemed perfect.

The walk was fun, holding hands with my girls; we got a table right away and enjoyed our chips and salsa; and the food, when it came, was delicious.

When my oldest pushed her plate to the side and said she’d save half of her meal for later, I thought nothing of it. Good for her, listening to her body when it says it’s full. Proud mama moment. It didn’t last long.

A few minutes later she said her tummy hurt, but didn’t want to go to the bathroom. “Let it sit,” I said, “it’ll pass.” Less than a minute later, “I think I’m gonna throw up.” She looked away and when she looked back, before I could rush her to the bathroom, she told me she just did.

“Did what?!”

“Puke.”

“Right there?!”

Yes, right there. She quietly and voluminously had thrown up on the floor of the restaurant, in full view of a booth of four adults trying to enjoy their appetizers. I rushed around with my napkins, which were clearly not enough to even cover it up, and darling daughter said she was going to puke again. What would you do? Probably not just hold your hands up to catch it, because I can tell you that doesn’t work, not the second and definitely not the third time your child throws up.

Servers rushed to help, and so did two very sweet women from neighboring tables. And when I returned from the bathroom after cleaning up my daughter, even the owner was cleaning, and was so so kind to us despite the mess.

You would think at this point, reader, that I would slap large amounts of money on the table and leave, but instead, I asked about taking my freshly delivered margarita to go (we were walking after all, and it cost $9!). Mom. Of. The. Year.

I do not know if I will ever be able to go back to that restaurant again. And at that point I didn’t think I should take my daughters out again, just in case.

But less than a week later. . . two other parents and I decided to get a drink and snacks while our kids were at dance rehearsal. I would be taking my younger daughter with me, but she wasn’t the one who puked at the last restaurant.

I used the maps app to look at nearby restaurants. Chili’s? No thanks. Bishop’s Post? Described as “upscale”. What about this other one-Twin Peaks? The tiny pictures show bar food that looks decent-that was enough for us.

Some of you already know where this is going. Others of you are just thinking this must be an Alaskan themed restaurant playing off the old tv show. I was of the latter mindset, and boy was that mostly wrong.

We walked into a woodlandy, log cabiny, kind of place that does have an Alaskan vibe. And then we saw the hostess–we saw so much of the hostess. See, it’s like Hooters but outdoorsy. And my 7 year old was with us.

We, probably very unsuccessfully, tried to hide our shock and were so stunned we couldn’t help but ask for a table for four and follow the hostess further inside.

I definitely wondered what people were thinking of me.  Was I a bad mom for bringing her to a generally adult oriented establishment? I also worried about shushing her non-whispered observations and answering all of her questions about the uniforms and the name of the place- which started 1.5 seconds after seeing the hostess.

So we ordered our drinks and appetizers and tried to talk about everything except the elephant – er, moose? – in the room. Our server was efficient and friendly and maybe we could have even been friends. But I’m sure she noticed me stifle a laugh when she asked if I wanted to join the rewards program and come back on my birthday. Sure, I thought, and I’ll bring my other daughter, too.

Mamas, here’s the bottom line (pun intended): Your hands are strong and beautiful, but they are not made for catching vomit; you are smart and wise, but you should still google every restaurant you ever consider so you are prepared to answer all the questions in public; and most importantly, you are not alone. Life is gross and awkward and we will never be fully prepared, but people are friendly and don’t talk about you until you’ve left the restaurant.

What are your most embarrassing restaurant moments? Tell me I’m not alone!