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Annoying Kids, IHOP, and Pancakes

Grudging Pancake Eaters do it Forkless

“He took the fork out of my hand and stuck it down his pants. What is up with all the annoying kids these days?”

The other morning my husband and I had this wild idea that we should take the kids to eat breakfast at IHOP.  We don’t normally go out to eat with everyone it’s expensive, and I don’t want people to think we have annoying kids.  They are what I would describe as “spirited.” For whatever reason we thought we’d give it a try, and the kids were excited to order soda pop and I couldn’t wait to have carbs!!  Everything ran smoothly, we got our table, ordered quickly, and much to our surprise the kids behaved like angels.  For once in like, ever, everyone, including other patrons, was going to have a great dining experience.  I gave my husband the look of, “aren’t we awesome,” and he gave me the “way awesome” thumbs up.  Then, out of nowhere, Natalie Portman walks in doing the slow clap and hands us a major award (see picture below). 

Yeah, that’s pretty close to how my daydream went.  I love getting awards for doing things that I should be doing anyway even if it is all in my head.  So I was about to grab my trophy when my thoughts were interrupted by the family sitting in the booth next to us.  They had a little boy that was incredibly active, and I was a little worried his added energy was going to set my kids off, but our food came and everyone focused on eating so I dove into my pancakes without much thought, until…  

 
Well, the wild boy next to us became restless and started jumping on the shared bench next to me.  Being a mother of hyper kids myself and having just been awarded “parent of the year,” I ignored the behavior.    But every time his feet landed, it jilted me sideways and it was driving me crazy!  On the last bounce he took the fork out of my hand and stuck it down his pants.  I was shocked and not sure how to react, but I had enough. So with my friendliest smile I spoke up to his mom and said:  “Hi, Booth Neighbor? Could you please ask your son to give us some space? He is being a little disruptive and as you can see, we have a few wiggly kids of our own.  Maybe he would like some crayons, or raisins?  I have some in my purse I can share.” 
 
She glared at me and did not respond.  I smiled a little bigger, there was no offense intended after all, but I still got no response.  I could see the restraint of irritation in her eyes.  What she appeared to be thinking was:  “Who are you to ask me to control my kid? My kid is perfect, my kid is awesome, my kid should be allowed to take the fork you are eating pancakes with and shove it down his pants. He is also welcome to jump on the shared bench right next to you so that your flank cellulite jiggles and makes you feel bad about eating pancakes. 

I looked over and saw the outline of my fork stuck in his underwear and said: “Hey little buddy, I was using that fork, you need to go back to your seat now, OK?” I looked at the mom waiting for her to react, and again and she didn’t say anything. She just stared at me Stare—> Stare—> Stare—>

 Finally, Booth Mom reacts: “Son, come over here.”

Fork Pants: “Awww, I don’t wanna!” *boing* *boing* *boing*

Booth mom: “If you want to watch your TV shows when we get home you will come eat your sausage.”
 
Reluctantly, Fork Pants went and sat down in his mom’s lap.  I cringed at the thought of the fork accidentally stabbing him in his little boy berries and wanted to mention it was still in there, but I was so irritated by her lack of involvement that the only thinking I could do was utter a halfhearted “Thanks.” 
 
Booth Mom rolls her eyes at me then leans to her husband and says: “Tom, he wasn’t hurting nothing, she don’t need to be offering him any nasty raisins.  Where do you think she learned her manners?  You don’t just go offering people no crap out of your purse.”
 
Booth Dad: “Mumble mumble (omelet shrapnel goes flying out of his mouth) blah… lady needs to mind her own business.”
 
I look at my husband and say: “Wow, Babe, do you believe this?!”
 
Husband: “It’s fine. Everyone is fine; he is sitting away from you now so let’s just enjoy our meal.”
 
Me: “Yeah, whatever. It’s not worth my energy.”
 
Husband: “Nope, let it go.”
 
What I wanted to say: “Oh, I’ll mind my own business alright.  I’m minding it right now.  Consider my biznass minded, Booth Mom!  Just for that I’m going to eat two more pancakes WITH BUTTER out of SPITE.  What’s that? Jen is super annoyed and needs 300 more calories to hold that super heavy grudge in place for the next two hours? Permission granted! Mmmm, Grudge Holder pancakes are the best, I don’t even need a fork to eat a Grudge Holder pancake because I can use my grudge-holding face pressed down on the plate and chomp up every last piece of pancake, so take that Booth Mom!  Where did I learn my manners? I think the bigger question is: Where did you learn to be a parent?!”

http://www.flickr.com/photos/mirandagranche/7791048020/

 

6 Comments
  • Darcy Perdu on July 23, 2013

    “Flank cellulite?” HILARIOUS! Very funny story! Great descriptions!

    • Jenergy on July 24, 2013

      Why thank you Darcy! I think I was born with hypersensory issues (yes, I just made that word up and diagnosed myself) because I seem to notice more detail in life than the big picture ;).

  • Erica of Nannypology on September 8, 2013

    Grudge holder pancakes ARE the best, and so are grudgey french fries, and grudgey nachos, and grudgey ice cream… wait, what was I saying??

    • Jenergy on September 9, 2013

      You were saying grudge food is yummy, and so is Spite… errr I mean Sprite.

  • Lynn on October 2, 2013

    I have some serious admiration going. I think hubster’s fork would have ended up in her forehead, if I were in that position. Jeez!

    • Jenergy on October 13, 2013

      I need to borrow one of your balls to keep in my purse! I Love the ‘tude, Lynn!

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