Picture this: 5:45 PM on 5-dollar pizza night at Eddie Romanellis.
A party walks in and says- "We have 8 adults, 5 kids, and we need 4 highchairs."
Staff member looks confused.
"Ummmm so, you need 4 highchairs for 5 kids or your need space for 8 adults, 5 kids, and 4 highchairs?"
"8 adults, 5 kids, and 4 highchairs."
"So 9 kids?"
"Yes."
Right now you are thinking- there's no way these people went out with 9 children! There's no way they went out outnumbered! That's just poor planning!
Oh yes we did.
And, you are thinking- I bet it was chaos, pandemonium, craziness!
And you would be... totally right.
Our waitress was so cute when she first arrived at out table. So perky, so sweet.
We broke her down within minutes. Did I mention our party included 4 infants, 3 toddlers, and 2 older kids? Oh, and one pregnant mama pushing 37 weeks.
Yeah. What were we thinking?
It started off good. We shared some cheerios and French fries. Chatted, laughed. Ordered our pizzas and dipped bread into mounds of butter.
And then the kids got full and bored. Cheerios littered the ground like fiber landmines. Kids were alternately under the table or crying. There was a near TKO with a menu and a plate that went flying and caused major psychological damage.
I took in the scene around us. People were definitely looking. Some were horrified, some amused.
But the kicker was the staff in the kitchen. Watching, laughing, and poking fun at our waitress who slowly went from perky to pissed with every trip back behind the glass.
And then, the cherry on the chaos cake.
"Miss, would you like me to box up your pizza?" our waitress asked my friend.
Just as her little boy started to throw up, naturally.
My friend, being the mama she is, offered up a place for him to be sick. Right on top of her leftover pizza.
The waitress asked again, in a decidedly more uncertain tone: "Ummmm do you still want to box that up?"
And that's when all the moms at the table lost it. We laughed so hard we cried. Our preggo mama wondered if her water would break.
Then we laughed even harder.
I am pretty sure our waitress will never have children. Her ovaries surely dried up like the Sahara right then and there.
But we did leave a big tip. For the therapy.
As I walked out I had to stifle the urge to shake hands and yell "Free birth control! You. Are. Welcome!!!!!!!"
Next time we call Dominos.
