Idle Thoughts

Last Friday we went out to eat dinner at Don Pablo’s (a wonderful Irish cuisine place*joke*).

Maxfield is now at the age (17 months) where he is feeling his independence and wants to walk everywhere. He enters every store and public place we go like he owns the place. It is his personal playground. So we enter Don Pablo’s and Max darts off towards the bar (because I have been training him well). Lauren chases him down. I am left standing at the vacant hostess station holding a stuffed Elmo doll.

The hostess approaches and says “How many tonight?”

I look at her, look at Elmo and say “Just the two of us. Elmo and myself.”

She looked a little frightened. “I’m just kidding. Two plus a high chair please.” I said as another hostess approached the podium. The first girl must have been in training because the second girl started explaining the seating chart and what not. I probably freaked the girl out on her first night on the job.

We were seated and as most parents do, we started pulling out all the toys out of the diaper bag for Max to play with, because “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop”. The “Devil’s workshop” usually likes to:
1.Grab silverware
2.Throw the children’s Menu
3.Scream
4.Whine
5.Bang the table with a sippy cup
6.Arch back nearly knocking over high chair.
7. Eat crayon's (given with childrens menu)

The Devil’s workshop is busy.

Anyway, we ordered our food. Mexican food, no matter what you order is pretty much the same thing just in a different presentation. As we were waiting our waitress came over and handed a ball of dough to Max. They do this for all kids at this restaurant. Max was quite delighted in his new pseudo-edible toy. The Devil’s workshop closed for the night. The waitress also informed us that every Monday they have a kid’s night. They have clowns and games and stuff so the kids can have fun while their parents eat Chimichangas. We will have to back for this.

Fast forward to after the meal. We are sitting chatting when a lady, dressed in normal everyday clothes walks up and asks us how are meal was.

I looked at her and said, “It was very good some strange lady.” I called her just that. “Some strange lady.” I knew she was the manager just checking on tables. But she was not wearing the Don Pablo’s staff shirt. She did not introduce herself. She did not say “excuse me’. She just walked up and asked how our food was. She could have been another customer inquiring about our dishes, which, I find strange.

The manager kind of half chuckled and took my empty plate. I immediately felt bad that I called her strange, but I was trying to make a point. I was trying to be funny. But then I felt bad, because, like most people, the manager did not get my sense of humor.

I turned to Lauren and said, “I feel bad I called her strange, but she just walks up to us and asks us about our dinner, no intro, no “I’m the manager”, just “how was your meal?”. She could have been anyone. Calling her strange just slipped out. I hate when I do that sometimes.”

Lauren laughed, “You know, Bill, when we first started dating, I always wondered if you even had in your brain an internal self editing switch. I always thought there is no relay, he just thinks something than says it. No hesitation. But it has gotten a lot better.”

I used to think that I thought too much about what I was going to say. Now I think I "think" too little. But by thinking about what I am going to say, but not saying what I am thinking is really confusing. I think.

At least I am getting better.