Indigestion

Last night, we attempted to go out to dinner for the first time as a family with two kids instead of just one. We chose a little Mexican dive in our town for two reasons - it is cheap so we wouldn't be too disappointed if it didn't work out so well and two, they bring your food really, really fast.

Here is where Brendan started out.

And where he ended up.

If you had been sitting near us (good thing you weren't), here is what you would have heard . . .

Stop pushing the table please.

I didn't hear the magic word.

Megan, get your hair out of your food.

Who keeps moving the table?

Be careful, you are going to spill your drink.

Megan, you just got ketchup in your hair.

Can we please have some more napkins?

Watch it, Brendan almost grabbed your hot plate.

No Megan, you cannot squeeze the lemon all over the place.

Where are the napkins?

Watch out. Brendan keeps grabbing for that plate.

Who the heck keeps moving the table?

Megan, eat your food please.

Gross, Brendan is biting the edge of the table.

Why don't they ever give you enough napkins for Pete's sake?

Megan, more eating . . . less playing.

Stop it. You're going to spill my drink.

Look at that puddle of drool Brendan left on the table.

Seriously, we've used all the napkins?

Megan, for the last time, eat your food.

What did Brendan just put in his mouth?
Sure, dip your french fries in whatever you want.
*Through gritted teeth* Stop moving the table!!!!!

Yes, we are ready for the check now.

And as we were leaving, Megan came out with

"Mommy, I'm hungry."

Next time I'm hungry for food someone else cooks, I'm calling a sitter.