June 17th, 2003
So we decided to go out to dinner last night. If I knew then what I know now, we probably wouldn’t have gone.
The restaurant we ended up at is small and is never too busy, especially on a Monday night. There were only about a half-dozen other diners so it was also very quiet.
Until we got there.
My daughter was a bit rambunctious and my son’s mood turned sour the instant he sat down, alternately throwing food on the floor and yelling at us. My daughter couldn’t sit still and was being as contrary as she could manage.
I can deal with all that. I’d prefer it if they were a little better behaved last night but kids are kids and occasionally they are noisy and misbehave. They’re animals sometimes. Everyone else should know that too and if their dinner was disrupted, I empathize, but tough.
But then, my wife took my daughter to the bathroom and it was just me and my son. I started getting ready to leave. I attempted to close a container of Cheerios one-handedly. Here’s what I did instead: the container has a curved bottom and slipped out from under my hand. It flipped once in the air and made a huge racket as it and my hand slammed the table. Cheerios exploded out of the container, some reaching at least 7 feet high, and sprayed the couple in the booth next to us.
Total silence for a couple of seconds.
I apologized to the couple. The girl took the brunt of the explosion but her hair deflected most of it. No one seemed to mind.
That was a little embarrasing but my son seemed to enjoy it.