Dinner

We've been eating out a little bit with the whole family lately. And lately we've been behaving at restaurants. Jason and I have even commented on how great everybody has done recently, meaning nobody threw anything or stood on the table or screamed too loud. I think I've started to get this invincible confidence, like, "bring on a restaurant, any restaurant, we can handle it."

So tonight, the girls had something and there was nothing at home for dinner. I called Jason after I dropped them off to see if he wanted to meet me and the boys for a quick dinner at this Italian place we've gotten take-out from before, and loved.

Side note: Bo has had some great days the last week or so. I know it's directly related to his bedtime, so we've made an effort to get him in bed by 6:30 since we got back from our last trip. He sleeps 12 hours, wakes up happy, and is pleasant all day when this happens. Last night we got in late and he missed the bedtime by about two hours. So today he's been a little more rowdy than usual. This behavior should have alerted me when I had the thought, "We should eat out tonight."

Jason agreed, and I'm sure it was because of our recent successes. I hadn't mentioned the hitting of the baby brother with the sword or the jumping on the sisters while watching the movie. I think if I had, he would have reminded me of some past dining out experiences and we could have gotten takeout.

I knew once we sat down that it was a mistake, but it's very difficult to leave a table once you've drank their water and eaten their bread. So we stayed. (I need to say that this was not the worst experience at a restaurant we've ever had. Our night at the Paniolo's Country Inn in Hawaii was much, much worse. But it was the fear I had all throughout the meal that was terrible.)

I ordered a creamy tomato sauce pasta, and Bo had spaghetti. Tucker was planning on sharing ours. After we ordered, a couple in their, say, fifties, clearly on a date, (she was wearing a prom dress and he had on a white shirt) sat down about 8 inches from us. I knew that Tucker (or Bo) was going to fling that bucatini with tomato sauce at any moment. He kept grabbing noddles with both hands and would hold them up and act like he was throwing them and then put them all in his mouth at once and then grab more. I was sweating. Jason was a wreck.

Bo kept bouncing around and knocking over silverware and water. He didn't want spaghetti. He didn't want water. I was trying to act like a human shield, blocking our children from the rest of the restaurant (especially the diners right next to us). I've never eaten so fast before. I was covered in sauce, and so was Tucker. I was extremely embarrassed because we were right at the entrance to the place, but I didn't have time to think about how ridiculous I looked, shifting myself around with every grasp of the noodle and covered in tomato sauce. The last time Bo knocked over the water I just picked up Tucker and left to go to my car.

Once I got them buckled in the carseats I snapped some pictures. But they don't do justice to the experience.