Tempt not the fates - Lest the Gods of the Garden of Olive kick you in the balls
Yesterday was our five year anniversary, mine and Hubby’s. While on our vacation last week we decided to do our celebrating on Friday, our last night at the beach. We had put the kids to bed early and ordered some fancy take-out and spent our evening on the deck listening to the ocean. We agreed it should be the way we commemorated our anniversary, and that the trip itself was our gift to each other this year.
Fast forward to Sunday, the day of our actual anniversary. It rained most of the day. So when it cleared up enough to go out by around 3:00 everyone was ready to leave the house. We went to the book store and let the boys play on the train table, we read some books, bought some gifts for friends, etc. At around 4:30 we agreed that we were all a little hungry and it might be nice to go out to an early dinner to celebrate on our actual anniversary - it was early, the kids weren’t tired, and it was, after all, “our real anniversary; it would be fun. Let’s go to Olive Garden!” And that, my friends, was our fatal flaw, our hubris, if you will. For those of you non-theater geeks, in Greek Tragedy, Hubris is an act of excessive pride, wherein the Greek hero ignores the warnings of the Gods, typically leading to his downfall.
You see, Hubby and I had our perfect celebration. The kids slept through our dinner that night with nary a whimper. We enjoyed each other’s company and got to eat our meal without inhaling it. We should have stopped there, while we were ahead. But NOOOO, NO, NO, NO. We had to push it, didn’t we?
Did you know that the Olive Garden even has a wait at 4:30 in the afternoon? Well, it does. Did we turn around and leave? No - Hubris - “We can wait; it’s early!” And wait we did.
When seated it was clear that Robby was not going to be content sitting in his high chair right from the start. We knew if we could just get him some finger foods he’d be happy, but it took the waiter about 10 minutes to get to us to even take drink orders since, as I said, the Olive Garden is packed even in mid-afternoon. But did we leave? No, we ordered wine instead. Hubris.
When Sam started screaming at the top of his lungs and our drinks hadn’t even arrived, I thought maybe we should throw in the towel. But no, I could handle screaming, I could redirect that energy into something positive (um, Hubris?). But when my wonderful suggestion for him to sing “Bushel and a Peck” resulted in him screeching “Dooda yooda yoodoo, dooda yooda yoodooo, dooda yooda yoodoo, DUUUUUUUUDE!!!!” at the top of his lungs, did we leave? The drinks hadn’t come yet - technically we could still get out without even having to pay a bill - but no. We pressed on. I’d like to mention though that Hubby was silent with fear by this point.
Then the pooping began. First Sam started talking about how he had to poop. Excellent. And so my husband and I were divided in our efforts, one having to escort Sam to the bathroom every five minutes, only to find out that poopie he would not (yes, he is still in diapers, but he needs privacy, you see). Meanwhile, Robby had also decided to get his load out and was grunting quite audibly and turning red in the face at the table. Neither of them were successful in their endeavors, but both were pretty damn cranky about it.
By the time I returned from my third trip with Sam, all of the food had arrived. But, of course, because both kids needed to crap neither was interested in eating. Robby wouldn’t sit in his seat anymore without full out screaming, and Sam had decided he wouldn’t either if Robby didn’t have to, unless he was standing in his chair and playing with the blinds and still singing, “Ya bet your pwetty neck I DOOOOO! Dooda yooda yoodoo . . .” You get the point. I imagine the couple next to us did not have sex last night, for fear they might end up with children and not ever be able to enjoy a quiet evening at the Olive Garden ever again.
We begged every serving person that passed to please get our waiter so that we could box all of the food and get the hell out of there. But by the time he actually arrived, then brought the boxes, then brought the bill, Hubby and I had scarfed our Seafood linguine and I had chugged my Sauvignon Blanc while we took turns holding Robby as he tried to escape and simultaneously trying to get Sam to sit down. Hubby said he’d never seen me eat so fast.
When we finally got out and loaded everyone into the car, we sat through a light for several rounds with it never giving us a green, ever, while the kids screamed in the back seat, until Hubby just drove on through.
When we finally got home each boy shat everywhere, Robby’s exploding from several areas of his diaper onto everything in his vicinity. It was at this point that I thought, “Yep, we totally asked for that.” Hubris.
And so I say to you again, tempt not the fates, swallow your pride, and get the hell out of there, lest the Gods of the Garden of Olive throw a shit storm at you.
Oh my gosh, Beth, I am so sorry but I am cracking up. Oh, what is it with Olive Garden and making people wait an eternity? Please tell me you are emailing them this blog post.
Steph
Your post is hilarious! I am so sorry that you had such an awful dinner…but I had to laugh! We’ve had those, too! (Minus, though, the poopy problems, which makes your experience much worse!!)
Okay….I am laughing out loud….but with you I hope!
At least you had a good “pre-anniversary” dinner together. As for the Olive Garden…..awful, awful, awful, place to take kiddos. They take FOREVER and by the time you get to your table the kids are done. Stick a fork in them done…might as well leave while you can done!
Oh dear heaven, not to laugh at anniversary gone awry, but this is hysterical. (Not to mention hubris is one of my fave words ever…)
Think you all owe yourselves (or better yet, Olive Garden owes you!) a bottle to enjoy at home tonight.
Happy belated, and thanks for the laugh!
ohmygoodness, dear. olive garden is AWFUL with kids. we’ve never had luck with our kids there. i can’t remember the last time we went there actually.
happy anniversary anyways!!
I am seriously laughing out loud at this one! Thanks! I needed that!
I can’t eat at Olive Garden, it makes *me* poop. Every time.
Sorry, I know, TMI.
Happy late anniversary, by the way!
Yes, Happy Anniversary! I love the Olive Garden. And I heed your warning. I won’t ever take the kids there.
Miss A refuses to poop on the potty and has now resorted to going into another room to be alone. If you walk in on her she says “I not!” Or if I ask her if she needs to go potty or if she’s pooping she says “Don’t say that!” Oh the fun. Only one more to potty train after this one. Thank the lord.
well first of all happy Anniversary! and oh boy can I relate! Sounds like my attempt of supper outtings! It’s why we stick to drive thru food! lol
Happy 5th Anniversary!
Taking my kids out in public is definitely effective birth control for strangers who have the bad fortune to cross our paths.
I kid, but seriously, I only take my kids out to eat to places like Olive Garden when we eat with our parents so we have two other sets of hands!
Hilarious.
So, five years ago when you gazed lovingly into your childless husband’s eyes, was that how you imagined spending your fifth anniversary?
Crazy how our expectations change isn’t it?!
Oh no sweetie.
That sucks on so many levels. SO MANY!
Don’t you long for the day you can go out to eat again! We sure do!
Happy Anniversary!
I must admit, we are brave when it comes to the arena of dining out with kids(I hate to cook), and we have so had our share of these dinners. Just last night, since A was sleeping over with her grandparents, we thought, eh,just two, no sweat. Yeah right. I was standing in the middle of the dining room holding the baby just waiting for that damn server to bring our bill. Sometimes I think I should know better…hubris.
Jen
Well, at least you can claim that it was a memorable anniversary no? Sorry, but it is pretty funny ….
My hubby would never go to a restaurant with the kids. The thought of that gives him heartburn. Me? I am the sucker for punishment and would think that it was a fabulous idea. And, that would happen to me. If it makes you feel any better, yesterday both kids shat themselves silly in Walmart and my son isn’t in diapers …….
I tagged you by the way too …..
Kudos for sticking with it! My husband would have been OUT OF THERE! He doesn’t handle that kind of stuff well. I can take 2 kids to a restaurant by myself and handle it better than he can when we’re all together. Glad you at least got a little wine and pasta in you!
You totally crack me up! I am laughing out loud at this post. I have been there, done that many a times. It is so hard as parents to realize that it is time to leave when you just don’t want to! There are many a times that hubby and I have decided to go out to eat when it was clearly not a good idea but we wanted to because it gives us some reminder of the times when we ate leisurely dinners with many glasses of wine. Happy Anniversary to you and yours! Ours is on Thursday and guess what we will be doing…probably changing poopy diapers like you!
LOL! I know we have all had those dinners!! Happy Anniversary anyway
I don’t know what it is about the Olive Garden - I’ve never gone without having to wait. And even if it’s a 5 minute wait, they still give you that little buzzer, like you’re going to take off, never to be found within that 5 minute span.
Happy Anniversary to you - you’ve definitely learned your lesson in hubris for anniversaries to come!
Jane
Happy Anniversary!
Hysterical post, too. We’ve had to make hasty exits from many restaurants, including once where they gladly boxed our entire dinner because Sam’s screaming was making teeth crack and eardrums melt. As soon as we got to the car, he abruptly stopped and was all smiles. I guess he didn’t appreciate The Spaghetti Factory’s faux Victorian elegance and bland sauces?
oh tee hee! too much. We, too, are familiar with the “get me the hell outtahere” scenario at restaurants.
Ah yes. We’ve all been there. Some of us more than others…
Happy Anniversary, btw!
Sweetie,
You and I must NEVER meet. There is only so much bad luck to go around in this world…
Oh my. That’s one of those nightmare dinners we all go through at least once and hope to never go through again. I hope this will never happen again for you.
And happy anniversary!
Holy Shia Lebeouf, that is some kinda brutal payment for a wee bit o’ hubris!
I have two kids the same ages as yours, roughly, and this entry is the most perfect and hilarious description of the chaotic juggle two small kids can create! Boy am I tired of chugging down my food to to the soundtrack of meltdown with a husband waiting impatiently to hand a squirming toddler menace to me so he can gulp his own food down. I have several friends who are about to have their second babies. Would sharing this entry be evil? heh heh Hmmm.