My sweet MIL took us to Grecco’s Wednesday night, and it was, as always, delicious. Local restaurants are almost always far superior to chains, and this place has the best pizza in the universe. We had a great time.
Until the door opened and a man waltzed in, carrying a screaming, wiggling child who looked to be around five years old. The kid actually leaped out of his father’s arms and landed on the floor on all fours, and proceeded to crawl all over the room before the man could corral him again, place him in the booth, and almost pin him to the wall. Two other kids with them were humiliated and begged to leave and eat at home. The father refused. He sat there waiting for his pizza, and then eating his pizza, seemingly oblivious to the little person screaming and laughing and screaming and struggling to get back to crawling around the floor and bothering people. Several times he did escape and the chase began: the kid was like a dervish, a deranged dervish, he was like a blur, a faster-than-light blur in a cartoon. The servers were dodging him. He nearly knocked a couple of them over a time or two. Customers were picking their purses and bags off the floor to get them out of his way. He almost caused several accidents with drinks and hot food. (I bet his dad would have had something to say if something spilled on that kid. . . . .)
But before they left, he sat down and ate a slice of pizza as calmly as you please. His father complimented him on his manners, and the kid was off again.
He did not seem like a typical ADHD kid to me. He did not seem like a typical anything to me. He just seemed like a brat who was in charge of the household and expected everything to go his way.
The thing is, a restaurant is NOT part of a child’s household. EVERYBODY in a public restaurant must make an effort to be extra well-behaved, because a public restaurant is a shared experience, and one rotten apple can indeed spoil the bushel. For shame, anyone of any age who destroys that. I do not expect perfection from anyone, least of all a child, but enough is enough.
The other two kids made sure everyone in the restaurant understood that they were NOT this kid’s siblings; just visiting cousins who did not want to ever visit again. The dad reminded me of that hapless father in the Zazoo condom video, who just stood there helpless as his demon-child demolished the grocery store when he didn’t get his own way RIGHT NOW.
What in the world gets into parents these days? That kid ruined the evening for a restaurant full of people, some of whom had paid a sitter so they could have a peaceful evening out, only to have it ruined by someone else’s disgusting ill-trained kid.
This kid sat still when he wanted to sit still. He knew exactly what he was doing. He was playing a game with his dad, and he was winning.
It was everyone else in the restaurant that lost.
I love a nice little kid. I adore nice little kids. I adore nice little kids when they are having a bad day, even.
This kid? No. I hate to think about how he will be manipulating this father in a few years. The man isn’t the boss now. I wonder if he thinks this kid will mind him later. I wonder if he cares.
Somehow, I think an adult who disrupts and destroys and ruins a restaurant experience for a crowd of people probably wouldn’t care. And it’s for sure that his child doesn’t. At five, a kid should have a few social skills, and be instantly removed from a public place when he does not display them.
The universe would have thanked the man for removing that child. Since he did not, nobody will thank him. Ever.
We couldn’t get out of there fast enough. What a display.
“Taste of Heaven” has the right idea. I’m all for it.