Last night we were eating at the Chinese buffet because we like to give our kids an international experience. Not really, I just love shrimp and crab legs. And people who don’t judge and if they do, it’s in a language I don’t speak. As I was mouthing my plate the way those animals in Snow White cleaned off the dishes–you’re welcome for that image–Mike alerted me that the man behind us was having trouble extracting his kid from the highchair.
The man was alone with his stuck boy and a little girl who looked on. The boy was about one year too old and twenty pounds too heavy for the small wooden frame. The man was trying to pull him out but the boy’s legs were stiffened in that maneuver and there was no way he was getting out without breaking a kneecap. The dad grunted but kept reassuring his son that this would be the last he would sit in a chair. No more highchairs for this hulking boy.
I walked over and offered help. I told him that I was used to the restaurant’s chairs–Nathan’s legs had quickly outgrown that tiny wooden space. I bent the boy’s knees outward while his father wiggled his kid’s large body up. His knees kept knocking against the wooden bar and he started to squeal. After some more wiggling and bending, the kid was plucked out of his Grindhouse highchair trap. His dad announced once more that there would be no more highchairs, that his boy would be at big table. And really who hasn’t done that–the loud bellowing that the next time will be better, it won’t be like this. There have been many moments at the Target register when I’ve warned a crying, jumping, shoe-tossing four-year-old that I’m not going to take him again if he behaves that way. What I don’t tell the listening audience is that I’m never going to take him anywhere and he had better learn to love the view of the time out corner of his room if he continues to yell that he WANTS! THOMAS! NOW!
So there you go. I can add Chinese Buffet Heroine to my resume. That will now replace my words per minute which according to the Mavis Beacon game I played in sixth grade, it’s 341. accuracy: 0. Does anyone want a business letter that reads, “Dear sdkshdnxidjdjdoenzyfojdv,”? Anyone?
And hey! I have a giveaway going on where you can win $150 for commenting on hewn you stay fit during the holiday season. 100% of you would love money right?