If I had kids of my own...

My wife left a snippet of a conversation I had with a wonderful patron (see bitch) at work the other night.

The families gatherd at our fine establishment for a birthday party. They had previously called and inquired about bringing their own cake which we have changed policy to deny since, a) it is a health code violation to bring in outside food, b) we lose revenue on not selling our own desserts, and c) the ever so appreciative cheap skates tend to throw a post check dropping fit because you did not read their mind and cut the cake into smaller pieces so that they could take some of it home for later. All good and valid reasons but after threatening to go somewhere else, which I would have suggested, our manager capitulated and allowed the breach of policy. Whatever.

One parent arrived with four children and managed to supervise none of them. Our restaurant was quickly transformed into another type of establishment. They next set of parents came in already mad and arguing with each other about which side of the car they took their child out of and worked on sharing their toxic energy with the group. The rest of the family gathered and after 15 minutes seating arrangement were finally decided on which included putting all five children on the opposite side of the table with no adults. Stellar idea.


After telling the parents that we did not have a children's menu, confirming again when asked if I was sure, and shooting a cross look when someone suggested that I should go check to make sure, we got to ordering. I am the first one to make families feel welcome and comfortable but I am not your emotional punching bag. Adults salads were sent followed shortly by the kids meals since few things keep kids quiet better that pizza and pasta. I of course held the main courses for the adults. All was well until I returned with a glass of wine for Toxic Tammy which I probably should have spiked with a Xanax or Valium and started our exchange.

T. T.: Umm...You need to go ahead and bring the kids food as soon as you can so they don't het out of control. I mean, if you had kids you would understand.

Me: Oh I understand. I have 4 kids. I have already sent their's to the kitchen. They will be up ASAP.

T. T.: No. I mean kids of your own. (eye roll)

Me: They are mine.

T. T.: (Look of disbelief) Really?

Bro-in-law: Why would he say he had kids if they weren't his?

T. T.: I just didn't think someone like that would actually have kids.

Me: (Turning around and snapping a pen in half while biting my tongue till it almost bleeds.)


I get it. I don't have a 9-5 cube job. But Tammy you can take your $30,000 millionaire, leveraged to the hilt in credit card debt, CRV driving, disrespectful head and shove it up the ass of an elephant until you...

Ok. I feel better.