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
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