I eat out frequently and sit in rather close proximity enough to other diners to occasionally pick up bits and pieces of their conversations. I may or may not be eavesdropping, but
more or less I overhear things because, you, inappropriate diner are just that... inappropriate, and...loud. So, Sunday morning we're sitting at Doughboys (not a good place for kids at all), enjoying a great cup of coffee in those cool Doughboys
mugs (that I want to jack) and I see this moron dart across 3rd Street in and out of traffic holding what appears to be about a four year old girl. "Idiot," I say to nobody because my husband was on a business call. I watch as said "idiot" walks
up to the host at Doughboys and gets seated at the vacant table conveniently located right next to us. At first I think she looks like Sandra Bullock, but quickly change my mind. It was the Ray-Bans, it was the Ray-Bans. She and the girl
sit down and she immediately starts reading the entire menu to the four year old. I'm telling you, the kid could care less about steel-cut oatmeal or homemade muesli. Anyway, Mom orders totally disregarding the kid's preference and engages in the
following conversation:
Mom: So Olivia, Do you think we should look for a new Daddy since the old one just got remarried?
Olivia: I don't know Mommy. I like the old one.
Mom: Well, maybe Mommy needs to cut her hair to find a new Daddy.
Olivia:
Can we have four new daddies?
Mom: Maybe we can find a bald daddy.
Mom: Olivia, When we go to New York we are going to see Wicked. Do you remember Wicked? It's the play with the witches?
Olivia: Oh I think I remember.
Mom: Oh,
here. Let me play the entire sountrack for you on my iphone. You can sing along with it.
Olivia: In the restaurant?
Mom: Yes we're outside.
Me:
Really? She's blasting Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth while I'm trying to eat smoked salmon? What's next, Frozen?
Olivia: (whining)
Where is our food?
I'm hungry.
Mom:
It's
coming. What did you do at daddy's house? You are so lucky that you get to live with me all of the time.
Food arrives.
Olivia:
I'm not eating that. I hate that.
Mom:
You love this. Look I got you pancakes too.
Olivia:
I hate that and I hate pancakes.(starts to hysterically cry and scream)
Me:
I hate both of you.
Ron:
We're getting the Red Velvet cake to go. I am done listening to this.