A few weeks ago manfriend invited us to have a pizza after church.
Church itself was a treat for us because we work Sundays and rarely can attend together, but at the mention of pizza Baby J perked up and blurted out her most enthusiastic “YES”.
She loves it not for the food, but because she gets exited to see other people, kids specially.
(Side note: she seems to get a social trait from her father because even though she doesn’t see kids on her daily basis, she will walk right up to any child, smile and try to get them to play. People had to harass me when I was young to get me talking, so yeah, not my DNA expressed.)
We where in church and one of our favorite pizza places was only a block away so we decided to walk. At the moment we didn’t realised that walking a block with a toddler was like walking three miles. To put the cherry on top, Baby J refused her stroller (having already tasted the freedom of roaming around the church building she was not having any of that stroller thing) and when we saw the door of the place we felt like we had walked a 10k.
Manfriend was carrying Baby J and I was pushing the stroller with the baby bag and my purse inside when we got there.
That’s when this … “woman” came out rushing from behind me, almost running really, cut in front of me and entered the pizza place before me. She immediately sat down in the first and only empty seating in the first floor of the place.
This would be nothing if it didn’t mean that we had to go up a floor through the tiniest flight of stairs you’ve ever seen in your life, towards the second floor which is crowded with tables so close to each other you can barely walk among them. With a toddler and a stroller.
Manfriend’s face fell when we reached the service counter and, looking back realised that we had been left without a place to sit. He turned towards the “woman” and a companion that seemed to walk in after her and basically fulminated her with his eyes. She knew she had left us without a table because we heard her say to her partner “what?! There’s more tables upstairs.”
There’s more tables upstairs.
I’m going to assume she has no kids and has never had to care for one because parents know right? We share the struggle. It was one of those moments when I wished I could’ve made her feel all we were feeling and let her know why.
It wasn’t the weariness of that night alone; we almost never eat out because it’s not on our budget. In fact when Baby J eats out she thinks she went to Disney, she gets THAT exited.
We deserved that night out.
Have a great day!