Being a massive
foodie, I eat out at least once a week. Whether it’s wine and tapas in town
with one of the girls or a quick pre-theatre on a Saturday, I can usually be found
spending most of my money on food. So when I got pregnant I did wonder if this
would stop. Not just because of the financial aspects but because I had seen
children run amok in restaurants and it had driven me crazy. I had watched
harassed parents try to desperately stop their kids crayoning the walls while their
linguine got cold and the ice in their vodka tonic melted and I thought ‘to
hell with that’.
I love food. I love
drinking wine. I love trying new restaurants and I love catching up with
friends. I didn’t want one of my biggest loves to be ruined by a snotty kid who
insisted on throwing my oven roasted potatoes at the waitress and gulping down
mouthfuls of my fellow diners Gavi when they weren’t looking. So after Ava was
born I kind of figured I would have to give that side of my life up. I figured
that eating out would become a bit of a treat on the rare occasion I actually
managed to leave the house. Turns out I was wrong though.
Ava might possibly be
the youngest foodie Glasgow has ever seen. She eats out constantly. That kid
knows the inside of a gastro pub, restaurant and sit-in deli like the back of
her hand. She peruses the menu with thought, care and diligence (she always
goes for fish fingers) and she instantly knows when the waiter appears to get
her drinks order in first. She has been eating out with me since she was a new born
and has become my number one eating out companion. Who knew?
My little bundle of
joy had her first taste of eating out at 2 days old when she accompanied her
Dad and I to a well-established restaurant in Glasgow for a bit of lunch. Two days later she could be found in our
local pub quietly snoozing while I munched on a Caesar Salad and perused the
latest edition of Red magazine. Cut to 2 days later and she’s in a well known
Glasgow south side institution with my Mum and I, being made a fuss of by all
the trendy staff while her Grandma and I shared a bottle of wine and a few
starters.
Since then she must
have eaten out with me a zillion times.
However, gone are the newborn days where she would just sleep for hours
in the car seat that was strategically placed on the table next to a sharing
platter and side of chips. Now she’s 2 I have to be a bit more clever about it.
When meeting my
single friends then my iPhone or her tablet are imperative. There is no way on
earth your best pal is going to be able to fill you in properly on her latest
conquests if you have a two year old climbing all over you while squirting
fruit shoot in her face. So stick on Peppa Pig or Mister Maker or whatever does
it for you and relax in peace as you catch up with your buddy. Crayons,
stickers and colouring books are all handy. If it’s just a casual lunch then
places like TGI’s, Frankie & Benny’s or The Gourmet Burger Kitchen are all
brilliant because they usually have little kids packs prepared. If you are
lucky you might even get a balloon. Which they will absolutely burst right in
the middle of your meal, making you spill your drink all over your open
sandwich, the entire restaurant turning around to stare at you wide-eyed as
your little one screams blue murder from the fright. Snacks are also good. I’m
aware that if you are going out for something to eat then you shouldn’t really
need anymore food but a few breadsticks can be perfect at keeping them quiet
until their pizza arrives and a biscuit or two has the same effect if they are
finished their meal but ‘don’t want ice-cream’. Ava never wants ice-cream - I
don’t even know who that child is sometimes.
I’m not saying I take
Ava everywhere. I need my long, prosecco-fuelled, gossipy lunches with the
girls like I need oxygen. And on those occasions I am more than happy to leave
my girl at her Dads or with a babysitter. Romantic meals are also a no-no with
kids. Because the only thing that between course nappy changes and Mr Tumble stickers
will get you in the mood for is more wine and an early night. Alone.
Same goes with dates.
Don’t take the kids - at least not if you want to see said date again. On the
other hand, if you have a stage five clinger that you are desperate to get rid
of but can’t, then taking little Tommy along and getting him to start calling
him ‘Daddy’ could be an excellent idea.
No comments:
Post a Comment