So last night, Amy and I went out to dinner and we took Noah with us. I made a reservation for two like I usually do when I Amy and I take Noah to dinner, because I feel like a complete Ass making a reservation for three, when 1) I know damn well Noah isn't going to eat anything and 2) I'd hate for the restaurant to take up a table for four simply because we have Noah with us.
"Do you have a reservation?" the host says.
"Yes we do. [insert faux name here] for 2," Amy says.
The host looks at us. "But you're three."
Oh don't worry. We'll just stick him in the corner somewhere.
Actually, I only wish I responded with something that clever. I really just stood there confused, and with my mouth open, and I guess I kind of made an "uhhhhhhh" sound.
Amy chimed in with "You didn't make the reservation for 3??"
"Uhm, no! And it wasn't a problem the last time we ate here?"
The host, whose chakras I think we completely upset, thought I was talking to him, but responded quite congenially with "Don't worry, I'm just trying to find a solution here."
A solution to what? Please don't make a fuss over us. Just treat us like everyone else. I'll seriously balance Noah in his car seat on the top of my head if I have to.
(and for those of you who can't tell, the italics text is my inner monologue. Get it?)
Anyway, they ended up making room for us all at a table for two on the end, where we had plenty of room to put Noah. But if two people came into your restaurant with a baby that looked like this, wouldn't you go out of your way for them?
Next time, I'll probably just tell them that we'll have a baby with us when I make the reservation.