Dinner with Children

The other night Jay and I went out to dinner with the Robot. We went to a fancyish Mexican place and sat out back, in an outdoor patio. As soon as we got the Robot situated in his highchair, he started up his usual routine of banging on the table. This table was cheap aluminum, and made a very loud CLANGing noise that thrilled the Robot. He started laughing like a maniac and banging the table faster and faster. He was pretty much hyperventillating with joy, and since we couldn't stop him we tried muting the noise by laying cloth napkins on the table. It didn't help.

There was one other couple on the patio, young and well rested and well dressed, drinking something out of a delicate martini glasses, blissfully childless. They smiled at us and told the server they'd be moving inside.

Alone on the patio, the Robot's incessant banging was cute and funny instead of really embarrassing. Out came three gay men who sat down next to us. They were friendly and tolerant. Then out came a couple with a two year old boy. When they strapped their son into the highchair, he started screaming like he was being electrocuted. The gay men could only take so much. They moved inside.

The couple was embarrassed and frazzled and the mom looked over at us and said, "you aren't going to leave too?" We laughed no, and told her about the couple we chased off earlier. She kept trying to calm her son down and even suggested he emulate the Robot by saying things like, "look how well behaved that baby is..." Ah, relativity. The Robot banged on, oblivious to the good example he was setting.

Out came an Indian couple with a two-and-a-half year old boy. Out came three-year-old Camille and her dad, who we know from the local bar. After that I lost track. The patio was full of obnoxious children. I saw people without children scan the patio, and opt to stay inside. Maybe they thought this was some kind of dinner hour daycare program. One childless couple did eventually join the melee. They didn't leave. Probably she was pregnant. Or probably all the inside seats were taken.

It's nice to be in Brooklyn, where you are surrounded by other parents and there is always a baby who's crazier than yours. And the restaurants never run out of highchairs.