My grandparents traveled extensively. Having dined in the finest restaurants around the world, my Grandmother relished the elegant ambiance and culinary delights that a fine restaurant offered. At the age of 85, she continues to keep a white, linen tablecloth on her table. Dining was always a sensory experience for Grandma. Not surprisingly, all of this changed when our twin daughters and their baby sister arrived within fifteen months of each other.
Dinner time dramatically changed with the passage of our three children into the toddler years. Along with their increasing interest in food, also came the decline and ruination of our peaceful mealtimes. Linen place mats and tablecloths were replaced by plastic-vinyl-indestructible everything. Colorful plastic dishes and utensils emblazoned with cartoon favorites forced the china and silver into storage. Massive "drop cloths" placed under their hook-on-the-table seats attempted to catch spills and drops. One toddler dropping peas and spilling milk is adequate to evoke dining chaos. You can imagine the havoc that three toddles simultaneously learning to eat evoked.
I recall the memorable photograph that I sent to my Mother who lived seven hundred miles away. Wanting her to witness the girls' development firsthand, I proudly sent the photo. Grinning faces smeared with the beta carotene of cooked carrots and enough food on the tabletop to feed a Third World nation for months, shocked her. An immediate call from my mother, urged the implementation of more stringent table manners. After all, they would grow up to become ladies one day and might need to know how to master a knife and fork.
My husband and I debated the pros and cons surrounding the dilemma. While it was easier (and probably more satisfying to the girls) to allow them this endeavor in eating, we opted to begin initiating some new rules. Having been a childless couple who had always enjoyed dining out, we chose to begin introducing the girls to restaurant dining.
Ironically, my Grandmother (the lady who always viewed dining out as a pleasurable experience) came to visit near the time that we made this dining out decision. Not wanting to delay our children's introduction to Restaurant Dining 101, Great Grandma was invited to accompany us on this new adventure.
Opting for a family-type steak house instead of our favorite French cafe', we loaded our girls and Great Grandma into the car. We attempted to prepare "Great" for the possible scenario that we could encounter -- flying finger foods, crumbled crackers, and massive food remains buried beneath the table. She consoled us with her persistent rhetoric that included "everyone will understand with three small children" and "they are such good little girls, I know they will do just fine!" Obviously, "Great" had not witnessed the girls' eating attempts since the tidy act of breast feeding.
As expected, we began our evening with the frantic search for three high chairs. Two high chairs and one booster seat later, we were seated. All the while we were deciding on our menu choices, Grandma was doling out crackers. The cellophane pile began to mount as crackers crunched everywhere. Still in control of the situation, Grandma defended her actions by announcing, "I know crackers are a bit messy, but they are keeping the girls occupied."
Opting to take turns at the salad bar, we each took turns, keeping diligent watch over the toddlers while each other filled their plates. Little attention did I pay to the discretely placed salad bar sign that read, " NO SHARING". That is, little attention was given to the sign until Grandma returned with her place piled a mile high. She began the fine art of salad bar sharing. There was gelatin salad for one girl and crisp carrot sticks for another. Crunchy croutons were given to our youngest, teething toddler. Not certain of the penalties that were enforced for salad bar sharing, I nervously scanned the room. Illusions of my Grandma being escorted out by the salad bar enforcer or (gasp!) being charged full price for three additional salad bars startled me.
As Grandma had predicted, the tidbits of food continued to entertain and occupy little hands and mouths until our dinner was served. Having ordered one meal off of the children's menu, I began the time consuming process of dividing portions onto three small plates. By the time I had given each of the girls their dinner, my husband and grandmother had nearly finished their meals. Reflecting on the situation, I should have asked Grandma to divide up their food so that she would not have had idle time at the end of her meal to notice the growing landfill underneath our table.
Fine dining memories flashed before her at that moment. So much for the dignified dining experiences of her travels. Quietly, she excused herself and walked away. Was she that offended that she would abandon us at the restaurant?
This proved not to be the case. Smiling, Grandma returned to the table with a damp washcloth and portable sweeper. Silently, she wiped sticky fingers and smudged faces. The cellophane wrapper pile quickly disappeared into her handbag and with an indiscreet swipe of the sweeper, she erased any evidence on the floor that could be traced to our family.
Quite stunned by how quickly and effectively Grandma had tidied up the girls and their surroundings, we departed the restaurant. Nervously spewing apologies to Grandma for the
"chaotic dinnertime and its aftermath", Grandma stopped me.
Her simplistic explanation silenced all my qualms about future dining out experiences with our children. She began, "As parents, you must remember that no matter who is dining next to you in a restaurant, be it a celebrity or the President of the United States, that he was a baby and a toddler at one point in his life." She continued, " Just like your little girls, I'm certain most of those people in that restaurant wrecked havoc at restaurants just like we witnessed tonight."
I smiled in relief to Grandma's common sense advice and knew that going out to dinner would be an easier and more relaxed task from that day forth.
Author's Note: The three small destructors of dining matured into fine young ladies, all capable of eating with utensils.
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