I am Warning You, Waitresses!

Waitresses, this is fair warning before the Farmer Family sits down at your table. There is a high probability Son2 will spill some cheerios on the floor, and Son1 may spill a little of his milk. I always get down and pick up anything that has been strewn on the floor so that it doesn't have to be done by you. But we will still tip you well! We promise you no less than twenty percent for a job well done. Despite our best efforts to clean the area around children's seats, there may still be some rogue evidence. But most of it will be picked up before the bill comes to the table. Now, if you want a chance at a good tip, forget about sucking up to the adults at the table, and quit ignoring my kids. It is far more effective to suck up to my three year old than to me. I could care less how many iced tea refills you bring me, or that you smile and use your bad acting skills as an attempt to convince me you care about me and my comfort. You don't. I know that. You are working your tip. But had you done something so simple as bring out my child's food first, you could have scored more green out of Hubby's wallet. That tiny little act of kindness would make me less edgy and incline our generosity. Think through the ramifications of bringing out the adult plates with nothing for my three year old. And when a little three year old asks about his macaroni and cheese, you should at least acknowledge his question.

So you want to know what happened? Well, you got the part about the macaroni and cheese taking forever to come out. We explained to Son1 oodles of times that they were cooking it. We tried to distract him and change the conversation a few times. Just when I thought I had diverted his attention, guess what commercial comes on TV at the restaurant? Yes, a macaroni commercial. Well, my plate came out, and Hubby's plate came out, without a plate for Son1. He took one look at his dad's chicken alfredo plate with some Superman tunnel vision. That's all he wanted. Who is going to say no to a hungry child? When the macaroni finally showed up, Son1 wanted nothing to do with it. He ate about half his dad's plate. We boxed up that macaroni and that was dinner for the next night for him. The waitress....sigh. She just didn't get it. She used that fakey fakey nicey nicey voice on repeated trips to our table, offered us more drinks , asked how we were doing, did our food taste ok, and wouldn't answer Son1's questions about his macaroni and cheese, not even once. Then this little face was priceless. Forget the macaroni and cheese, I want that.