Sometimes my husband will ask me if I want to eat out or if we should just order in. In my head, I picture our adorable family carefully passing the basket of bread. It is an alternate reality where everyone shares and no one spills and not even once am I or them under the table for any number of reasons and no one cries and we order dessert and it’s no big deal and we casually share it. And then the version of what will actually happen pops into my head – that of children crawling and crying and spilling. And it is in that moment that I look at my adorable little rugrats and say something to the effect of, “No fucking way. Not this time.” We’re up on Scary Mommy tonight, sharing some thoughts on what we’ll miss about going to restaurants with little ones J