TheMommyBlog

Sunday, October 12, 2003

Just have to post this for the record, or I might wake up thinking it was part of a wine-induced fantasy: dh and I took the tired, napless children to eat at a pasta place (child-friendy, crayons and coloring-placemats and bread waiting at the table), and they behaved beautifully. No one got up (except to go potty--good call, Dylan), no one cried, no one wandered away, not one irritated glance or forced smile from another table, timely delivery of much-appreciated food (lest that one slip by you, let’s repeat it: Timely. Delivery. Of. Much-appreciated. Food.), and a smooth transition from famished shoveling down of nutritious spaghetti and tomato sauce with bread to an elated clamoring for a scoop of ice cream at Cold Stone.

I stayed to settle the bill as the three of them slid out of their chairs and followed Daddy in an orderly and very adorably polite fashion, and I didn’t hear another peep until I arrived at the ice cream store just in time to witness Logan using Daddy’s car keys to open up the locked and occupied bathroom whose startled resident promptly smashed Dylan’s fingers in the door in his haste to restore privacy.

Fast forward through the screaming, shreiking, comforting, apologizing, kissing, and scolding, and try to concentrate on the blissful, sticky consumption of strawberry and mint desserts, followed quickly by a hasty retreat, baths, and a split-second descent into slumber.

On balance, as perfect a night as we’ve ever had.