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I decided to visit our favorite Chinese restaurant yesterday, taking all
three daughter-units with me. We're "regulars," and they recognize me through my daughter-units. This "special" treatment/recognition is one of the reasons we keep coming back. Yesterday, though, has made me rethink this patronage. We walked in during the peak lunchtime, but due to a high in daughter-unit recognition, we got a table immediately. (I now wish we'd been forced to wait with the remaining crowd.) The owner, the Matron of that particular family-owned business, greeted the d-u's like they were her own dear granddaughters and seated us towards the back at one of the tables for eight. This was more table than any of us needed but it had the advantage of blocking Spawn in against the wall, so I didn't balk. I thanked her and got Daughter-units Alpha and Beta seated, while Spawn climbed up to the chair of my liking. That's when the first Tsunami hit us. The high-pitched squeal stopped the clattering-mumbling-rumbling lunch-rush symphony more surely than the Cone-of-Silence. The restaurant, every table filled, turned as one and looked back towards the noise. A stout young fellow, no more than 2, STANDING ON THE TABLE trying to jump up and down, was the focus of a group of fifteen. (I later learned they were "celebrating his second" birthday.) His I-must-be-the-center-of-attention bugle-call was met by his tablemates with giggles and laughs. My daughter-units were all staring; Spawn was particularly fascinated. I groaned. This was going to be a LONG lunch - probably punctuated by short bursts of screeching followed by extended voids of silence. The Bugler was not the only child present, though. He was also accompanied the Demolisher, the Puller, the Kicker, and the Mommy-yeller. All adults (I use this term to describe their physical appearance, not their mental facilities) were either engaging in a running dialogue -- at full volume -- or laughing and pointing at the Bugler. I felt the beginnings of a Stage 3 Migraine descending down upon me. I reminded my three where we were and what I expected. There were no protests. There were no last longing looks at the table. Daughter-unit Beta only smiled and answered, "Yes, Dad." The daughter-units are very opinionated when it comes to what they will and will not eat at this restaurant: Sesame Chicken, steamed rice, the [House] Chow Fun, and hot-and-sour soup. Most of these items can be found among the luncheon menu, so that made ordering for them that much easier. Since this is also a time I might experiment, I chose to do so (Hunan Squid!) We looked around for a waiter and were rewarded by Mr. Personality doing his impersonation of the Zombie Shuffle over to our table. (He's one of the most efficient waiters I've ever been served by but he has a permanent scowl that he puckers his face into. He's rarely said a word, either, no matter how one might try and engage him.) The Bugler squealed again. The physical pain caused by this kid's bursts of sound would make a Memorex ad! Mr. Personality physically winced like someone cracked a bull whip off his back. His normal soured puss scrunched down like he'd just been force-fed alum. I started to place our order but noticed he wasn't writing anything. I wasn't competing with that other table effectively enough so I raised my voice. (Those public speaking courses I took during college actually come in handy! Who'da thunk it?) Mr. P scratched down our order and ZS'd towards the kitchen, past that other table. Mommy-Dearest #1 turned in her chair as he shuffled past and said something to him. He didn't even stop to acknowledge her. MD#1 got up and followed him into the back. [In all my years of restaurant work, I'd only seen this a couple times... And it still surprises me.] The Demolisher took this momentary lull to introduce himself to our table. One of the Chevron Cars® flew under Daughter-unit Alpha's chair and into my foot. I was a little surprised but not annoyed. The third time annoyed me. The Demolisher was into Smash-Bang-Crash'em-Up, and upon retrieving the car the first time from us, decided that I was his new game. I reached under the table and (like most restaurants everywhere) was not surprised at the level of uncleanness. I picked up the CC® and handed it back to Demo. He yanked it from my hands and trotted back out of reach like a striking cobra. My d-u's noticed the signs of a bad thunderstorm forming and took evasive action. Mr. P returned with the soup and actually managed a smile - think Wednesday's smile in "The Addams Family" ("Make her stop! It's scaring us!") -- and shuffled past that other table again. MD#2 stopped her yakking and followed Mr. P into the back (yet again.) A CC® streaked under our table again. The sudden stop of the car by the table's stand sent a shiver throughout the top; soup quaked. I reached down as Demo was reaching under the table and got the CC® before he could. "Please don't throw this under there again. It's very dirty under there." (Reason: I always try to reason first.) There was no thank you (again) but this time I was prepared and as his hand tried to snatch the car, I held onto it with a little more force than was necessary. "Understand?" Our eyes met. He nodded quickly. Too quickly. Our introduction to the remaining troupe of players (the Puller, the Kicker, and the Mommy-yeller) came indirectly. The three were running circles around that other table when the Kicker (leading the trio) had her hair pulled (by the Puller), effectively reining her in. She turned while her hair was still held firmly by the Puller, and delivered one of the most stunning front kicks I'd ever seen. The Puller dropped and squirmed on the floor, clearly winded. Conversations abruptly halted at that other table and the adults just looked. The Mommy-yeller took advantage of the quiet to tattle and would not stop tattling for the next few minutes. Daddy-Dearest (the only one) came over and picked up the Puller and motioned for the Kicker to sit down. Conversation at that other table resumed like nothing had happened. The Bugler trumpeted again. D-uB clapped her ears. In a voice that only the young can manage, she piped, "He's loud! Why is he so loud? He hurts my ears!" This was not lost on that other table. The bugler was pulled down from the table and onto an adult seat (rather than a high chair). <groan> D-uA yelped. The Demolisher had returned. One of his CC® had "crashed" [into her shin]. That was too much. I reached down, grabbed both CC® and the Demolisher and brought him over to that other table. DD stood up and conversation stopped (everywhere.) "If he comes over to my table again, I will spank him." I set the CC® on the table and push Demo towards DD. "I don't want him anywhere near my table. Is that perfectly clear?" I looked over the crowd that carped back. No one said anything. "Don't make me carry that threat out." I turned and walked back to my table. Mr. Personality delivered our meals, but I'd long since lost any appetite I might've had. My daughter-units, though, were enjoying their repast like it was their last meal. I sat there and nibbled away and finally managed to force myself into scarfing my meal down without any enjoyment. During this reduced noise period, the Demolisher had moved to another portion of the floor (by two other large group tables). These were occupied by business people on their lunch hours. The Demolisher chose (unwisely again) to sling one of his CC®'s under the nearest. It was occupied by someone that was more annoyed than me and as the CC® bounced back -- and under his feet -- he stepped on it. He looked over at that other table and then down at the Demolisher. "I'm not a parent but if I were, I'd want my kids to behave in public. If I were my grandparents, this car would now be mine. If this car -- and child -- comes back over here one more time, he won't enjoy his experience." MD#3 whined for the Demolisher to come back to that other table. Feeling that staying any longer would add nothing but an increased level of indigestion, I signaled over to Mr. P. He knew that we were leaving and picked up our dishes and efficiently managed to box them to go. As we stood, the gentleman that had issued Demolisher's second warning stopped their table's conversation and called over to us. "I wanted to congratulate you on how well your daughters behaved. Especially that young one. There are too many that ignored the fine lesson they presented today." Daughter-unit Alpha -- without prompting -- thanked him. (I did, too, not wanting to be bested by my daughter-unit. <G>) As we left, the Matron apologized for our experience and hoped to see us again. I didn't commit. The Ranger |
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On Thu, 10 Nov 2005 19:04:21 -0800, "The Ranger"
> rummaged among random neurons and opined: <snip of horror story> This is where management should have stepped in at *some* point and demanded that TIIC either make their little monsters behave or to leave. My sister has raised such a one (and my mother would have yanked us baldheaded if we'd pulled anything close to this sort of misbehavior). We were in a restaurant where she was *constantly* reprimanding him (and not doing a thing to enforce the reprimand) when one of the long-suffering patrons said to his waitstaff, loudly enough for us to hear, "Would you please tell those women to shut Jay up or leave?" My sister said, "How'd he know Jay's name?" I said, through clenched teeth, "Because, every twenty seconds, you're saying, "Stop it, Jay." "Sit down, Jay." "Quit kicking the table, Jay..." I actually grabbed him by the arm at one point and snarled at him that "Mommy might not make you stop, but Auntie Terry will" accompanied by my best Evil Kid Glare. It worked for about 10 mins. Never again. I cannot abide rudeness in child or adult. Terry "Squeaks" Pulliam Burd AAC(F)BV66.0748.CA "If the soup had been as hot as the claret, if the claret had been as old as the bird, and if the bird's breasts had been as full as the waitress's, it would have been a very good dinner." -- Duncan Hines To reply, replace "spaminator" with "cox" |
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Terry Pulliam Burd > wrote in message
... <snip of horror story> > This is where management should have stepped in at *some* > point and demanded that TIIC either make their little monsters > behave or to leave. I am told by a very reliable source that this is the norm of behavior at this type of event... > My sister has raised such a one [..] > one of the long-suffering patrons said to his waitstaff, > loudly enough for us to hear, "Would you please tell > those women to shut Jay up or leave?" > > My sister [asked], "How'd he know Jay's name?" I said, > through clenched teeth, "Because, every twenty seconds, > you're saying, "Stop it, Jay." "Sit down, Jay." "Quit kicking > the table, Jay..." See Bill Cosby "Himself" sometime for his skit on the airplane ride... <EG> > I actually grabbed him by the arm at one point and snarled > at him that "Mommy might not make you stop, but Auntie > Terry will" accompanied by my best Evil Kid Glare. [..] I'm the "Uncle That-will." I have no problem dressing down a niece, nephew or cousin that is behaving in such a way as to be objectionable. I spank. I coerce. I am not a nice person if you embarrass me... I have a very thick skin, broad shoulders, and a small brain so not to much subtlety gets past me. I happily step on cabbages if they're belching too loudly. ObFood: Turkey dinner last year. My oldest nephew, It's Not My Fault (INMF), ****ed-and-moaned that he was not being allowed to "help." When I assigned him the task of setting the table, he balked because it wasn't "really helping prepare the meal." I managed to push a glimmer of understanding into his pointed cranium by focusing on the obvious: He needed X # of hours of community service to graduate. He wasn't meeting his minimum requirements with me so no hours were going to be recorded. He soon learned that he needed to behave in a manner acceptable to the majority and not the minority (his mom.) The Ranger |
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On Thu, 10 Nov 2005 21:56:43 -0800, "The Ranger"
> wrote: >Terry Pulliam Burd > wrote in message .. . > >> My sister has raised such a one [..] >> one of the long-suffering patrons said to his waitstaff, >> loudly enough for us to hear, "Would you please tell >> those women to shut Jay up or leave?" >> >> My sister [asked], "How'd he know Jay's name?" I said, >> through clenched teeth, "Because, every twenty seconds, >> you're saying, "Stop it, Jay." "Sit down, Jay." "Quit kicking >> the table, Jay..." > >See Bill Cosby "Himself" sometime for his skit on the airplane ride... ><EG> J E F F R Y ! ! ! ! >> I actually grabbed him by the arm at one point and snarled >> at him that "Mommy might not make you stop, but Auntie >> Terry will" accompanied by my best Evil Kid Glare. [..] > >I'm the "Uncle That-will." I have no problem dressing down a niece, >nephew or cousin that is behaving in such a way as to be objectionable. Crash was visiting his best friends one night. Their son and daughter, who were supposed to be sleeping, kept making a racket. Nothing their parents did or said helped the situation. So Crash went in and told them, "I have no emotional investment in you. I could kill you right now and feel no remorse. Now go to sleep!" The parents were so grateful. After that, if the kids were acting up, they'd just pick up the phone and say they were calling Uncle Crash. I didn't say this was *healthy*! BTW, Crash loves those kids like they're his own. Carol -- Wash away the gray to respond. |
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ms. tonya > wrote in message
... > But I would warn against touching a child even > if misbehaving in public. [snip] SWMBO screeched the same advice. I'm sorry, but... I'd do it again even if it meant a court case. ****'em. I'm not going to be made to feel uncomfortable in a restaurant because some self-entitled jackass wants to be a friend rather than a parent... The Ranger |
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Damsel in dis Dress wrote:
> On Thu, 10 Nov 2005 21:56:43 -0800, "The Ranger" > > wrote: > > >Terry Pulliam Burd > wrote in message > .. . > > > >> My sister has raised such a one [..] > >> one of the long-suffering patrons said to his waitstaff, > >> loudly enough for us to hear, "Would you please tell > >> those women to shut Jay up or leave?" > >> > >> My sister [asked], "How'd he know Jay's name?" I said, > >> through clenched teeth, "Because, every twenty seconds, > >> you're saying, "Stop it, Jay." "Sit down, Jay." "Quit kicking > >> the table, Jay..." > > > >See Bill Cosby "Himself" sometime for his skit on the airplane > ride... > ><EG> > > J E F F R Y ! ! ! ! > > >> I actually grabbed him by the arm at one point and snarled > >> at him that "Mommy might not make you stop, but Auntie > >> Terry will" accompanied by my best Evil Kid Glare. [..] > > > >I'm the "Uncle That-will." I have no problem dressing down a niece, > >nephew or cousin that is behaving in such a way as to be > objectionable. > > Crash was visiting his best friends one night. Their son and > daughter, who were supposed to be sleeping, kept making a racket. > Nothing their parents did or said helped the situation. > > So Crash went in and told them, "I have no emotional investment in > you. I could kill you right now and feel no remorse. Now go to > sleep!" > > The parents were so grateful. After that, if the kids were acting up, > > they'd just pick up the phone and say they were calling Uncle Crash. > > I didn't say this was *healthy*! BTW, Crash loves those kids like > they're his own. > > Carol > -- > Wash away the gray to respond. Just to spread the blame a little thicker, shift the focus a bit, i was once loudly and obscenely berated in public by a stranger, an adult, middle aged woman who did not approve of me, my lifestyle, occupation, clothing etc. I wont go into the details of why this happened other than to say i was working in an out door public place at a local holiday "street fair" promoting an 'alternative' non christian religious philosophy. If any one saw "Trading Spouses" last night on the t.v. you will understand the kind of big, fat, ugly (both physically and spiritually) overweight, rudely opinionated, nut case i am talking about. She came upon me so suddenly i did not have time to think to be polite or indifferent to her and gave her right back, as graphically & obscenely as she was directing at me, matched her verbal abuse to such a degree she visibly wilted and slunk away ( i am a physically imposing person my self, 6 ft. 2 in. 190 pounds). Later that day some of her adult children that she was with came back to my table and apologized to me and told me i had made a impression on her, that she had never been stood up to like that and it seemed to have impressed her, they had never seen her so quite after her encounter with me. So lets not just blame the kids, there are plenty of out of control adults out there and they are not setting very good examples for other peoples, kids or anyone else. The pity is this is but one anecdote i could relate about adults behaving badly. --- JL |
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On Thu, 10 Nov 2005 19:04:21 -0800, "The Ranger"
> wrote: >I decided to visit our favorite Chinese restaurant yesterday, taking all >three daughter-units with me. We're "regulars," and they recognize me >through my daughter-units. This "special" treatment/recognition is one >of the reasons we keep coming back. Yesterday, though, has made me >rethink this patronage. Horror story snipped I enjoyed reading your story far more than you enjoyed your dinner. Thanks for posting it. Little shits. Big shits of parents too. How I detest ineffective parenting. |
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![]() Damsel in dis Dress wrote: > > On Thu, 10 Nov 2005 21:56:43 -0800, "The Ranger" > > wrote: > > >Terry Pulliam Burd > wrote in message > .. . > > > >> My sister has raised such a one [..] > >> one of the long-suffering patrons said to his waitstaff, > >> loudly enough for us to hear, "Would you please tell > >> those women to shut Jay up or leave?" > >> > >> My sister [asked], "How'd he know Jay's name?" I said, > >> through clenched teeth, "Because, every twenty seconds, > >> you're saying, "Stop it, Jay." "Sit down, Jay." "Quit kicking > >> the table, Jay..." > > > >See Bill Cosby "Himself" sometime for his skit on the airplane ride... > ><EG> > > J E F F R Y ! ! ! ! > > >> I actually grabbed him by the arm at one point and snarled > >> at him that "Mommy might not make you stop, but Auntie > >> Terry will" accompanied by my best Evil Kid Glare. [..] > > > >I'm the "Uncle That-will." I have no problem dressing down a niece, > >nephew or cousin that is behaving in such a way as to be objectionable. > > Crash was visiting his best friends one night. Their son and > daughter, who were supposed to be sleeping, kept making a racket. > Nothing their parents did or said helped the situation. > > So Crash went in and told them, "I have no emotional investment in > you. I could kill you right now and feel no remorse. Now go to > sleep!" > > The parents were so grateful. After that, if the kids were acting up, > they'd just pick up the phone and say they were calling Uncle Crash. > > I didn't say this was *healthy*! BTW, Crash loves those kids like > they're his own. > > Carol > -- > Wash away the gray to respond. LOL...my dh used to say "behave or you can be replaced...your mother and I can go into the bedroom and make another one". Before anyone has an objection, the "kids" were old enough to take the joke....Sharon |
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![]() biig wrote: > > LOL...my dh used to say "behave or you can be replaced...your mother > and I can go into the bedroom and make another one". Before anyone has > an objection, the "kids" were old enough to take the joke....Sharon Yeah, and they laughed, because by then you were too old to carry out your threat. hehe Sheldon |
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![]() Sheldon wrote: > > biig wrote: > > > > LOL...my dh used to say "behave or you can be replaced...your mother > > and I can go into the bedroom and make another one". Before anyone has > > an objection, the "kids" were old enough to take the joke....Sharon > > Yeah, and they laughed, because by then you were too old to carry out > your threat. hehe > > Sheldon Almost....lol |
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![]() "The Ranger" > wrote in message ... > <story snipped> > Daughter-unit Alpha -- without prompting -- thanked him. (I did, too, > not wanting to be bested by my daughter-unit. <G>) > > As we left, the Matron apologized for our experience and hoped to see us > again. I didn't commit. > > The Ranger ROTFLMAO! What a great story. I am laughing because I've (we all) have been there and done that. Sorry about the Rolaids experience but what a wonderful lesson for your DU'S as you cal, them. If it were me, I would be back in a heart beat. Take care, Dimitri |
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On Thu, 10 Nov 2005 19:04:21 -0800, The Ranger wrote:
> As we left, the Matron apologized for our experience and hoped to see us > again. I didn't commit. > What an awful experience! I would have run out screaming. Why didn't you just tell the shuffler that you wanted your food packed up to go when that kid first stood on the table and you saw what uncontrolled brats the others were? |
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The Ranger wrote:
> > ObFood: Turkey dinner last year. My oldest nephew, It's Not My Fault > (INMF), ****ed-and-moaned that he was not being allowed to "help." When > I assigned him the task of setting the table, he balked because it > wasn't "really helping prepare the meal." I managed to push a glimmer of > understanding into his pointed cranium by focusing on the obvious: He > needed X # of hours of community service to graduate. He wasn't meeting > his minimum requirements with me so no hours were going to be recorded. > He soon learned that he needed to behave in a manner acceptable to the > majority and not the minority (his mom.) > > The Ranger > > Exactly WHAT institution is he trying to graduate from? If it's a high school that requires "community service", I wouldn't consider helping with a family holiday dinner as that kind of service. Maybe a Salvation Army dinner, but family??? No, not even close. You've mentioned this nephew before. It sounds as though he could easily end up in the bad kind of institution. Every family has one, I guess. gloria p |
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Puester > wrote in message
... > The Ranger wrote: > > ObFood: Turkey dinner last year. My oldest nephew, It's > > Not My Fault (INMF), ****ed-and-moaned that he was > > not being allowed to "help." When I assigned him the task > > of setting the table, he balked because it wasn't "really > > helping prepare the meal." I managed to push a glimmer of > > understanding into his pointed cranium by focusing on the > > obvious: He needed X # of hours of community service to > > graduate. He wasn't meeting his minimum requirements > > with me so no hours were going to be recorded. He soon > > learned that he needed to behave in a manner acceptable > > to the majority and not the minority (his mom.) > > > Exactly WHAT institution is he trying to graduate from? He was moving up a grade in middle school. The school's "policy" on getting the kids involved with community service is very gray with regards to who benefits and how. The only point that is mandatory is the number of hours per quarter they have to put in... Ten. > If it's a high school that requires "community service", > I wouldn't consider helping with a family holiday dinner > as that kind of service. Maybe a Salvation Army dinner, > but family??? No, not even close. That's what are local HSs expect, too, but the expectations are becoming less defined since there are more students that aren't caring. Pretty sad. > You've mentioned this nephew before. It sounds as though > he could easily end up in the bad kind of institution. > Every family has one, I guess. He's certainly willing to provide me material galore... The Ranger |
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sf > wrote in message
... > On Thu, 10 Nov 2005 19:04:21 -0800, The Ranger wrote: > > As we left, the Matron apologized for our experience and > > hoped to see us again. I didn't commit. > > > What an awful experience! I would have run out screaming. > Why didn't you just tell the shuffler that you wanted your > food packed up to go when that kid first stood on the table > and you saw what uncontrolled brats the others were? I'm an eternal optimist. Have you ever entered a bad scene and hoped the party causing it was just about to leave? That's what I kept thinking; "They're about to leave." When they didn't, well... The Ranger |
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![]() "The Ranger" wrote in message > > > ObFood: Turkey dinner last year. My oldest nephew, It's Not My Fault > (INMF), ****ed-and-moaned that he was not being allowed to "help." When > I assigned him the task of setting the table, he balked because it > wasn't "really helping prepare the meal." I managed to push a glimmer of > understanding into his pointed cranium by focusing on the obvious: He > needed X # of hours of community service to graduate. He wasn't meeting > his minimum requirements with me so no hours were going to be recorded. > He soon learned that he needed to behave in a manner acceptable to the > majority and not the minority (his mom.) > > The Ranger (sigh) - I'm the mean grandmother. Don't believe that all grandmothers dote. Some can't take it. Dora |
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In article >,
The Ranger > wrote: >I decided to visit our favorite Chinese restaurant yesterday, taking all >three daughter-units with me. We're "regulars," and they recognize me >through my daughter-units. This "special" treatment/recognition is one >of the reasons we keep coming back. Yesterday, though, has made me >rethink this patronage. <tale of horror snecked> All Hail The Ranger! All Hail the Daughter-Units! I'd go back. The restaurant can't help that the patrons are boorish. It sounds like they served you well. Seriously, you thought on your feet a lot better than I did during a similar incident. The short version is that I met a group of friends at a Peninsula pub. We were in one of the rooms with a large "family" party that made a big show of praying before meals ... but let the approximately eight year old boys have a food fight all over the room unimpeded. We ate fast and got out. Charlotte -- |
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The Ranger wrote:
> The Demolisher took this momentary lull to introduce himself to our > table. One of the Chevron Cars© flew under Daughter-unit Alpha's chair > and into my foot. I was a little surprised but not annoyed. The third > time annoyed me. After the 2nd time, I'd have had no problem crushing the toy car under my shoe, by mistake of course!!! ![]() Andy |
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On Fri, 11 Nov 2005 14:31:37 -0600, Andy <q> wrote:
>The Ranger wrote: > >> The Demolisher took this momentary lull to introduce himself to our >> table. One of the Chevron Cars© flew under Daughter-unit Alpha's chair >> and into my foot. I was a little surprised but not annoyed. The third >> time annoyed me. > >After the 2nd time, I'd have had no problem crushing the toy car under my >shoe, by mistake of course!!! ![]() A man after my own heart! LOL! Carol -- Wash away the gray to respond. |
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On Fri 11 Nov 2005 01:31:37p, Thus Spake Zarathustra, or was it Andy?
> The Ranger wrote: > >> The Demolisher took this momentary lull to introduce himself to our >> table. One of the Chevron Cars© flew under Daughter-unit Alpha's chair >> and into my foot. I was a little surprised but not annoyed. The third >> time annoyed me. > > > After the 2nd time, I'd have had no problem crushing the toy car under my > shoe, by mistake of course!!! ![]() Or the kid for that matter...by mistake of course!!! -- Wayne Boatwright *¿* _____________________________________________ A chicken in every pot is a *LOT* of chicken! |
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Wayne Boatwright wrote:
> On Fri 11 Nov 2005 01:31:37p, Thus Spake Zarathustra, or was it Andy? > >> The Ranger wrote: >> >>> The Demolisher took this momentary lull to introduce himself to our >>> table. One of the Chevron Cars© flew under Daughter-unit Alpha's >>> chair and into my foot. I was a little surprised but not annoyed. >>> The third time annoyed me. >> >> >> After the 2nd time, I'd have had no problem crushing the toy car >> under my shoe, by mistake of course!!! ![]() > > Or the kid for that matter...by mistake of course!!! Wayne, RIGHT!!! Like the Rolling Stones taught us! "Hey... You... Get under my Shoe!!!" ![]() Andy |
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On Fri 11 Nov 2005 04:31:03p, Thus Spake Zarathustra, or was it Andy?
> Wayne Boatwright wrote: > >> On Fri 11 Nov 2005 01:31:37p, Thus Spake Zarathustra, or was it Andy? >> >>> The Ranger wrote: >>> >>>> The Demolisher took this momentary lull to introduce himself to our >>>> table. One of the Chevron Cars© flew under Daughter-unit Alpha's >>>> chair and into my foot. I was a little surprised but not annoyed. >>>> The third time annoyed me. >>> >>> >>> After the 2nd time, I'd have had no problem crushing the toy car >>> under my shoe, by mistake of course!!! ![]() >> >> Or the kid for that matter...by mistake of course!!! > > > Wayne, > > RIGHT!!! Like the Rolling Stones taught us! > > "Hey... You... Get under my Shoe!!!" > > ![]() > > Andy > LOL! -- Wayne Boatwright *¿* _____________________________________________ A chicken in every pot is a *LOT* of chicken! |
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In article >,
"The Ranger" > wrote: > We walked in during the peak lunchtime, but due to a high in > daughter-unit recognition, we got a table immediately. (I now wish we'd > been forced to wait with the remaining crowd.) The owner, the Matron of > that particular family-owned business, greeted the d-u's like they were > her own dear granddaughters and seated us towards the back at one of the > tables for eight. This was more table than any of us needed but it had > the advantage of blocking Spawn in against the wall, so I didn't balk. I > thanked her and got Daughter-units Alpha and Beta seated, while Spawn > climbed up to the chair of my liking. That's when the first Tsunami hit > us. > Sometimes I think that prospective parents need to take classes, pass a test and get a license to have kids. There are so many problems with your story that it is pathetic. There are a lot of very simple things that you do to avoid this. They didn't have a clue. Obviously you do, and that's why your kids behave. -- Dan Abel Petaluma, California, USA |
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sf wrote:
> On Thu, 10 Nov 2005 19:04:21 -0800, The Ranger wrote: > > > As we left, the Matron apologized for our experience and hoped to see us > > again. I didn't commit. > > > What an awful experience! I would have run out screaming. Why didn't > you just tell the shuffler that you wanted your food packed up to go > when that kid first stood on the table and you saw what uncontrolled > brats the others were? Nuts to that. I would not want to be sent running from a restaurant by a brat. Confront he kid. Take the toy that kept ending up under your table and tell the parents to keep their brat on a leash. |
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Andy wrote:
> The Ranger wrote: > > > The Demolisher took this momentary lull to introduce himself to our > > table. One of the Chevron Cars© flew under Daughter-unit Alpha's chair > > and into my foot. I was a little surprised but not annoyed. The third > > time annoyed me. > > After the 2nd time, I'd have had no problem crushing the toy car under my > shoe, by mistake of course!!! ![]() Me too. |
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![]() "The Ranger" > wrote in message ... <Nasty story snipped> > The Ranger What I would like to know is have you discussed this with the DU'S? What was their take on the situation? What example did you set for them? Was this a "learning" experience or a frustration demonstration? Dimitri |
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Dan Abel > wrote in message
... [snip] > Sometimes I think that prospective parents need to take > classes, pass a test and get a license to have kids. There > are so many problems with your story that it is pathetic. > There are a lot of very simple things that you do to avoid > this. They didn't have a clue. Obviously you do, and that's > why your kids behave. I think different cultures place different values on children's behavior as well. I place a significant amount of pride in my daughter-units being asked back to places, especially when I'm not present. I preen about like a proud rooster when other parents talk about my daughter-units' manners and common sense. We are now allowing them to experience dining at the next level. Sometimes it's worked great (high-end steakhouse in Las Vegas, NV was an awesome experience for all of us), sometimes they remind us that they're not quite ready for the next level (braised sea bass in a lemon chardonnay redux, spring mix salad and candied pecans with a rosemary vinaigrette from Le Papillon). The same rules apply; if they can't contain themselves, they will be escorted outside to the car -- with me. And -- as per your example of a parent-child tagteam sitting in a car -- since I'm not much fun when I miss a meal, they've learned that this little exercise should be avoided at all costs. The Ranger |
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Dimitri > wrote in message
... [snip] > What I would like to know is have you discussed this > with the DU'S? What was their take on the situation? > What example did you set for them? Was this a "learning" > experience or a frustration demonstration? I talked about it for three days after it happened... At one point D-uB said I should get over it because she'd never act like that. D-uA just let me rant but also confirmed that she would never yell, or throw her toys, or run about in a restaurant. Spawn thought I was funny when I yelled at the parents. As far as setting an example... It's certainly not as positive a role model as I could have been. I let a group ruin my meal experience and bring out a side that I try and contain regularly. Probably the frustration demo -- in Dolby SenSurround. The Ranger |
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Charlotte L. Blackmer > wrote in message
... <tale of horror snecked> > > All Hail The Ranger! > > All Hail the Daughter-Units! > > I'd go back. The restaurant can't help that the patrons are boorish. > It sounds like they served you well. I've since been back, received sterling service from Mr. P, and even got comped a dish. As it was delivered, Matron tagged it, "You're going to like this. It's the cook's specialty." Matron told me dish's name but my failing hearing and a flare-up of Parentitis is preventing me from remembering. It had mushrooms, bamboo shoots, some mystery seafood, loads of garlic, and several peppercorns in a mild sauce... > Seriously, you thought on your feet a lot better than I > did during a similar incident. [snip another boorish group] > We ate fast and got out. I tend to think very quickly on my feet. Unfortunately, it's not always very safe or positive. SWMBO keeps telling me that one of these days, it's going to backfire... The Ranger |
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The Ranger wrote:
> Dan Abel > wrote in message > ... > [snip] > > Sometimes I think that prospective parents need to take > > classes, pass a test and get a license to have kids. It does seem 'common sense' don't it? A license to drive a car is required but any 2 idiots can clone another idiot without any quality control (yes i know the rebuttal to that statement but bear with me here for moment). Unfortunately under our Constitution and Bill of Rights (at lest us Americans, and by extension even the British and Europeans) it is popularly believed that we have certain 'inalienable rights' among them which seems to be the right of procreation, which i assume falls under the 'right to life' category. Certainly not 'liberty' and 'the pursuit of happiness' i cant think of anything that will so quickly restrict ones 'liberty' and 'happiness' than ones own 'children'. --- JL > There > > are so many problems with your story that it is pathetic. > > There are a lot of very simple things that you do to avoid > > this. They didn't have a clue. Obviously you do, and that's > > why your kids behave. > > I think different cultures place different values on children's > behavior > as well. I place a significant amount of pride in my daughter-units > being asked back to places, especially when I'm not present. > > I preen about like a proud rooster when other parents talk about my > daughter-units' manners and common sense. We are now allowing them to > experience dining at the next level. Sometimes it's worked great > (high-end steakhouse in Las Vegas, NV was an awesome experience for > all > of us), sometimes they remind us that they're not quite ready for the > next level (braised sea bass in a lemon chardonnay redux, spring mix > salad and candied pecans with a rosemary vinaigrette from Le > Papillon). > The same rules apply; if they can't contain themselves, they will be > escorted outside to the car -- with me. And -- as per your example of > a > parent-child tagteam sitting in a car -- since I'm not much fun when I > > miss a meal, they've learned that this little exercise should be > avoided > at all costs. > > The Ranger |
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![]() The Ranger wrote: > I decided to visit our favorite Chinese restaurant yesterday, taking all > three daughter-units with me. We're "regulars," and they recognize me > through my daughter-units. This "special" treatment/recognition is one > of the reasons we keep coming back. Yesterday, though, has made me > rethink this patronage. > > We walked in during the peak lunchtime, but due to a high in > daughter-unit recognition, we got a table immediately. (I now wish we'd > been forced to wait with the remaining crowd.) The owner, the Matron of > that particular family-owned business, greeted the d-u's like they were > her own dear granddaughters and seated us towards the back at one of the > tables for eight. This was more table than any of us needed but it had > the advantage of blocking Spawn in against the wall, so I didn't balk. I > thanked her and got Daughter-units Alpha and Beta seated, while Spawn > climbed up to the chair of my liking. That's when the first Tsunami hit > us. > > The high-pitched squeal stopped the clattering-mumbling-rumbling > lunch-rush symphony more surely > than the Cone-of-Silence. The restaurant, every table filled, turned as > one and looked back towards the noise. A stout young fellow, no more > than 2, STANDING ON THE TABLE trying to jump up and down, was the focus > of a group of fifteen. (I later learned they were "celebrating his > second" birthday.) His I-must-be-the-center-of-attention bugle-call was > met by his tablemates with giggles and laughs. > > My daughter-units were all staring; Spawn was particularly fascinated. I > groaned. This was going to be a LONG lunch - probably punctuated by > short bursts of screeching followed by extended voids of silence. The > Bugler was not the only child present, though. He was also accompanied > the Demolisher, the Puller, the Kicker, and the Mommy-yeller. All adults > (I use this term to describe their physical appearance, not their mental > facilities) were either engaging in a running dialogue -- at full > volume -- or laughing and pointing at the Bugler. I felt the beginnings > of a Stage 3 Migraine descending down upon me. > > I reminded my three where we were and what I expected. There were no > protests. There were no last > longing looks at the table. Daughter-unit Beta only smiled and answered, > "Yes, Dad." > > The daughter-units are very opinionated when it comes to what they will > and will not eat at this restaurant: Sesame Chicken, steamed rice, the > [House] Chow Fun, and hot-and-sour soup. Most of these items can be > found among the luncheon menu, so that made ordering for them that much > easier. Since this is also a time I might experiment, I chose to do so > (Hunan Squid!) We looked around for a waiter and were rewarded by Mr. > Personality doing his impersonation of the Zombie Shuffle over to our > table. (He's one of the most efficient waiters I've ever been served by > but he has a permanent scowl that he puckers his face into. He's rarely > said a word, either, no matter how one might try and engage him.) > > The Bugler squealed again. > > The physical pain caused by this kid's bursts of sound would make a > Memorex ad! Mr. Personality > physically winced like someone cracked a bull whip off his back. His > normal soured puss scrunched down like he'd just been force-fed alum. I > started to place our order but noticed he wasn't writing anything. I > wasn't competing with that other table effectively enough so I raised my > voice. (Those public speaking courses I took during college actually > come in handy! Who'da thunk it?) Mr. P scratched down our order and ZS'd > towards the kitchen, past that other table. Mommy-Dearest #1 turned in > her chair as he shuffled past and said something to him. He didn't even > stop to acknowledge her. MD#1 got up and followed him into the back. [In > all my years of restaurant work, I'd only seen this a couple times... > And it still surprises me.] > > The Demolisher took this momentary lull to introduce himself to our > table. One of the Chevron Cars® flew under Daughter-unit Alpha's chair > and into my foot. I was a little surprised but not annoyed. The third > time annoyed me. The Demolisher was into Smash-Bang-Crash'em-Up, and > upon retrieving the car the first time from us, decided that I was his > new game. I reached under the table and (like most restaurants > everywhere) was not surprised at the level of uncleanness. I picked up > the CC® and handed it back to Demo. He yanked it from my hands and > trotted back out of reach like a striking cobra. My d-u's noticed the > signs of a bad thunderstorm forming and took evasive action. > > Mr. P returned with the soup and actually managed a smile - think > Wednesday's smile in "The Addams Family" ("Make her stop! It's scaring > us!") -- and shuffled past that other table again. MD#2 stopped her > yakking and followed Mr. P into the back (yet again.) A CC® streaked > under our table again. The sudden stop of the car by the table's stand > sent a shiver throughout the top; soup quaked. I reached down as Demo > was reaching under the table and got the CC® before he could. > > "Please don't throw this under there again. It's very dirty under > there." (Reason: I always try to reason first.) > > There was no thank you (again) but this time I was prepared and as his > hand tried to snatch the car, I held onto it with a little more force > than was necessary. "Understand?" Our eyes met. He nodded quickly. Too > quickly. > > Our introduction to the remaining troupe of players (the Puller, the > Kicker, and the Mommy-yeller) came indirectly. The three were running > circles around that other table when the Kicker (leading the trio) had > her hair pulled (by the Puller), effectively reining her in. She turned > while her hair was still held firmly by the Puller, and delivered one of > the most stunning front kicks I'd ever seen. The Puller dropped and > squirmed on the floor, clearly winded. Conversations abruptly halted at > that other table and the adults just looked. The Mommy-yeller took > advantage of the quiet to tattle and would not stop tattling for the > next few minutes. Daddy-Dearest (the only one) came over and picked up > the Puller and motioned for the Kicker to sit down. Conversation at that > other table resumed like nothing had happened. > > The Bugler trumpeted again. D-uB clapped her ears. In a voice that only > the young can manage, she piped, "He's loud! Why is he so loud? He hurts > my ears!" This was not lost on that other table. The bugler was pulled > down from the table and onto an adult seat (rather than a high chair). > <groan> > > D-uA yelped. The Demolisher had returned. One of his CC® had "crashed" > [into her shin]. That was too much. I reached down, grabbed both CC® and > the Demolisher and brought him over to that other table. DD stood up and > conversation stopped (everywhere.) > > "If he comes over to my table again, I will spank him." I set the CC® on > the table and push Demo towards DD. "I don't want him anywhere near my > table. Is that perfectly clear?" I looked over the crowd that carped > back. No one said anything. "Don't make me carry that threat out." I > turned and walked back to my table. > > Mr. Personality delivered our meals, but I'd long since lost any > appetite I might've had. My daughter-units, though, were enjoying their > repast like it was their last meal. I sat there and nibbled away and > finally managed to force myself into scarfing my meal down without any > enjoyment. > > During this reduced noise period, the Demolisher had moved to another > portion of the floor (by two other large group tables). These were > occupied by business people on their lunch hours. The Demolisher chose > (unwisely again) to sling one of his CC®'s under the nearest. It was > occupied by someone that was more annoyed than me and as the CC® bounced > back -- and under his feet -- he stepped on it. He looked over at that > other table and then down at the Demolisher. "I'm not a parent but if I > were, I'd want my kids to behave in public. If I were my grandparents, > this car would now be mine. If this car -- and child -- comes back over > here one more time, he won't enjoy his experience." > > MD#3 whined for the Demolisher to come back to that other table. > > Feeling that staying any longer would add nothing but an increased level > of indigestion, I signaled over to Mr. P. He knew that we were leaving > and picked up our dishes and efficiently managed to box them to go. As > we stood, the gentleman that had issued Demolisher's second warning > stopped their table's conversation and called over to us. > > "I wanted to congratulate you on how well your daughters behaved. > Especially that young one. There are too many that ignored the fine > lesson they presented today." > > Daughter-unit Alpha -- without prompting -- thanked him. (I did, too, > not wanting to be bested by my daughter-unit. <G>) > > As we left, the Matron apologized for our experience and hoped to see us > again. I didn't commit. > > The Ranger |
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On Fri, 11 Nov 2005 19:08:59 -0500, Dave Smith wrote:
> sf wrote: > > > On Thu, 10 Nov 2005 19:04:21 -0800, The Ranger wrote: > > > > > As we left, the Matron apologized for our experience and hoped to see us > > > again. I didn't commit. > > > > > What an awful experience! I would have run out screaming. Why didn't > > you just tell the shuffler that you wanted your food packed up to go > > when that kid first stood on the table and you saw what uncontrolled > > brats the others were? > > Nuts to that. I would not want to be sent running from a restaurant by a brat. > Confront he kid. Take the toy that kept ending up under your table and tell the > parents to keep their brat on a leash. > I'm not *that* confrontational... I'd react more like Ranger if put in that situation. |
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In article >,
"The Ranger" > wrote: > Dan Abel > wrote in message > ... > [snip] > > Sometimes I think that prospective parents need to take > > classes, pass a test and get a license to have kids. There > > are so many problems with your story that it is pathetic. > > There are a lot of very simple things that you do to avoid > > this. They didn't have a clue. Obviously you do, and that's > > why your kids behave. > > I think different cultures place different values on children's behavior > as well. I place a significant amount of pride in my daughter-units > being asked back to places, especially when I'm not present. > > I preen about like a proud rooster when other parents talk about my > daughter-units' manners and common sense. Raising children is very rewarding. Unfortunately, most of the rewards are far in the future. We all need some strokes along the way. Being proud of your children and their achievements is very important. Otherwise you'd just kill them. :-( God made them lovable for a reason. They are a challenge. I love little children, a lot. I don't have any, though. My kids are 26, 22 and 20. I've already been there and done that. -- Dan Abel Petaluma, California, USA |
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In article >,
Joseph Littleshoes > wrote: > The Ranger wrote: > > > Dan Abel > wrote in message > > ... > > [snip] > > > Sometimes I think that prospective parents need to take > > > classes, pass a test and get a license to have kids. > > It does seem 'common sense' don't it? A license to drive a car is > required but any 2 idiots can clone another idiot without any quality > control (yes i know the rebuttal to that statement but bear with me > here for moment). I think a lot of things. I think I ought to be a millionaire. I think everybody should love me. I have a lot of daydreams. That doesn't mean that I am actually advocating these things. -- Dan Abel Petaluma, California, USA |
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good grief... learn how to use a news reader
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Ranger--your story illustrates that just because a person is capable of
reproducing doesn't mean they should. In my opionion, only a minority of people should even consider having children--most folks I see just don't make very effective parents. My big beef is staying at a hotel that has a pool, and not being able to take advantage of it, because of all the kids hellraising (and parents doing the "Vallium Shuffle"--letting their kids misbehave). It just takes one family with 3 kids to completely take over a swimming pool. Many parents, I believe, use their children as an excuse to be insufferably rude and selfish in many situations. Kudos to you! You sound like a great parent--and sounds like you've got terrific kids.--r3 |
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In article . com>,
"tsr3" > wrote: > Ranger--your story illustrates that just because a person is capable of > reproducing doesn't mean they should. In my opionion, only a minority > of people should even consider having children--most folks I see just > don't make very effective parents. My opinion is that most parents are effective and do a good job. The minority of bad ones make the rest look bad. > My big beef is staying at a hotel that has a pool, and not being able > to take advantage of it, because of all the kids hellraising (and > parents doing the "Vallium Shuffle"--letting their kids misbehave). > > It just takes one family with 3 kids to completely take over a swimming > pool. My daughter and I traveled many years back. It was a great trip. We stayed at an inexpensive motel on the way up. There was an indoor pool and hot tub. We headed for the hot tub. My daughter was about six. There was one other guy in there. My daughter had been cooped up for hours, and was pretty squirmy. I didn't think she was obnoxious, but she was moving around and making small waves. The guy claimed that he was a firefighter, and the temperature of the tub was dangerous for kids that age. I figured that he just wanted her out of there. I ignored him, but made sure she kept part of her body out of the water. I don't think that helped the wave situation. We didn't stay in long, as we were hungry and wanted dinner. Anybody know the facts here? I think that there is a big difference between behavior in a nice restaurant and behavior in a pool. -- Dan Abel Petaluma, California, USA |
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