On Sunday, we enjoyed visiting a new church with my parents, sister and her family. Afterwards, we all headed to a nice Italian restaurant which is a favorite of my sister’s. When the waiter arrived to take our order, he informed my dad cheerfully that “Es mi gran placer servirle!” (“It’s my great pleasure to serve you!”) According to my dad, what would have been more appropriate considering the events that followed, is “It’s my great challenge to serve you!”
Picture this: A long table tucked into the furthest corner of the room, with six hungry adults and six very rambunctious children. Heads were turning as the entourage of fair-skinned, blond and blue-eyed children, along with their darker-skinned (okay, in Owen’s case MUCH darker-skinned!) cousins noisily entered the restaurant. The meal had not even been served when the first incident took place.
Suddenly I felt a trickle on my foot. I looked at my neighbor, three-year old Micah, and saw that not only was he sitting uncommonly still but his glass was missing. I lifted the edge of the tablecloth and saw his upside-down glass still sitting on his knee, with orange soda soaking through his pants and dripping on the floor. Accident Number One!
The children received their food while the adults continued to wait. Owen was sitting on the other side of me, enjoying his fried shrimp, fresh bread, French fries and orange soda. Pedro was on his other side. Suddenly, Owen leaned on Pedro and said that his tummy hurt, following that statement with a loud burp. Assuming that the burp would relieve the tummy ache, Pedro relaxed. Without warning, Owen suddenly gagged and began to vomit all over his plate, tablecloth, chair, floor … and Daddy!
The waiter looked ready to follow suit when he returned to pick up empty plates and reached for Owen’s plate, now covered in vomit-laden cloth napkins. I was equally sorry for my husband, concerned for my child, and horrified that the wait staff had to deal with such a terrible mess (especially the poor guy who went down on his hands and knees to clean the stuff off the floor!) We hurried to the bathroom, cleaned Owen as well as we could, then reached our table once again just as the adult meals were arriving. Needless to say, it was very difficult to enjoy our food after Accident Number Two … and as to whether we will ever show our faces again at the scene of such mortification, who knows??
Afterwards, I realized that my camera was with me that entire time and I missed capturing all the excitement on film. But as I’m sure everyone would agree after hearing the details of that unforgettable meal, it was probably the “best picture never taken!”
5 comments:
Both of my granddaughters were born in Japan where their parents were missionaries. Home to them is whereever mommy and daddy live with them. As long as they have both mommy and daddy they are happy.
Poor Owen and poor Daddy! (and yeah, poor wait staff!) Well, it's a memory for the books, isn't it? *hee hee*
Love the site...keep it up!
Blessings
Marcel and Ingrid Mitchell
Pedro and Steph and kids,
I enjoyed all of it from top to bottom, most recent to earliest date. Thanks for allowing us to venture with you each day via your blog. Keep up the good work, dear daughter. Love, Mom
Wow. The other side of parenting. :) Love you!
Post a Comment