Last night I was reminded for the 1023rd time why eating out with small children is no fun at all. We arrived at the Country Cat at 5:30 with reservations for 7: four adults, two 3-year olds, one 1-year old and a 3-month old baby.
The fight over crayons and water cups commenced immediately. The 3-year olds were separated. My kids, hungry and tired (it seems the time change caught up with them a day late) whined and cried and grabbed. Baby A stood up in her high chair, ripped off her bib and caught my wine glass, spilling half of Mommy's magic stay-calm juice over the table.
We were just about to flag down our server and get everything to go when our food arrived. I had the cast iron pan fried chicken and collard greens, which featured a tasty, fluffy honey biscuit that my kids stole from me. Baby A put away chicken, smoked pork, grits, carrots and green beans. Z had my biscuit and a few bites of chicken.
Everything was delicious, and while we ate a sort of peace prevailed. But then the kids got antsy again so we cleaned our plates, split the bill (all the kids meals were free!) and did a preliminary courtesy sweep of the area under Baby A's high chair.
