Overreaction to a Pet Peeve

Alrighty, Internet, here I am to check in once again!  I made it to post #2!  This is fucking progress!

Obviously, I wasn't feeling particularly optimistic nor was I in a very good mood last time I sat down to write to all of you, so forgive me if I came off as a narcissistic nihilist bitch.  That will happen from time to time.  I can't really afford therapy, so it comes to you to deal with.

We didn't get to go to the anime festival.  It was too expensive and I misjudged my husband, Karl's level of interest in anime and anime accessories, so we ended up just going out to have a good day out of the house.  After hearing rave reviews about this new restaurant chain that's been popping up here and there around Boise, Noodles & Co., we thought we'd try it out.  It was pretty darned good all in all, but not fantastic.  What was fantastic was the service.  The people working at the Milwaukee Blvd location seemed to genuinely enjoy working there and seemed to have (dare I say it?) pride in their work.  Mind you, this place is like... not very many steps above "fast" food, so to see the young Boisean men and women who worked there speak so enthusiastically about their culinary offerings was a nice (and surprising) change from the norm.  This isn't really a food blog, so I won't get into the whole "I ate this and Karl ate that and this is what it tasted like" crap, but we did observe a situation at this restaurant that I'd like to address to the internet-viewing public at large...

Internet, look... I have a lot of advice to give, and most of the time it's advice I, myself, follow.  I promise you, I will try not to dole out too much advice specifically about parenting, as I will always be the first to say, I have no idea how to do it.  I just know what it looks like when you're doing it wrong.

Ok, so Karl and I and our youngest daughter, Tesla were eating, and a few tables away from us sat another youngish family with two children.  One child was around sixish maybe, and the other was probably around a year, maybe a bit younger, and sitting in a highchair and eating loose macaroni noodles off a mat of some sort.  They were done with their meal, so Mom stood up to start strapping one of those sexual bondage devices that can later double as a baby-carrying aid to herself.  Dad then stuffed said device with said baby and all exited out the door, Dad loaded down with the biggest freaking diaper bag I have ever seen.  You should have seen this freaking diaper bag.  Half of their baby shower presents and a few of the guests could have been in that thing for all I know.

Anyway, I mean, you understand of course, that these people were only walking from their table out of the restaurant, not stopping to pay because at Noodles& Co. you pay before you get your food like at fast food restaurants, and then ten feet into the parking lot to their mini-van, where they'd be depositing their squishy bag of baby into another (albeit more forgivable) bondage device called a car seat.  In consideration of not only the baby Hip-Dysplasianator ™, but the deflated queen-size waterbed mattress they were using as a diaper bag, it can be assumed that this particular mommy does what she can to ensure that her baby-raising style is fashioned upon ease and convenience.  The dichotomy of seeing her and her husband take five minutes to construct the most "convenient" two minute trip from a restaurant table to a mini-van, and seeing the freaking disaster they left behind for the minimum wage-earning employees at the restaurant to clean up without ALSO leaving them a tip made my brain explode.

So you know what I did?  I took pictures of it and mentally prepared to rant about it on this blog, while furiously bitching about it to my husband.

This doesn't really do it justice... or I'm way too judgemental. 

See, here's the deal, Internet:  If you're the type of person who demands convenience as some sort of make-up for the difficulties one might experience for having children, that's fine.  But do NOT allow your children to then be everyone else's inconvenience.  Cleaning up after your kids' messes are not "what [restaurant employees] are paid to do." It isn't "their job."  You gave birth to the baby and enabled him/her to make the mess; therefore, it's YOUR job.  I am definitely overreacting, but rudeness is part and parcel when dealing with the public and frankly, it's breaking my heart.  Entitlement and self-excusing are things we teach our kids from a very young age.  I try not to make the same mistake.

Anyway, we had one of the best days we've had for quite awhile, and I'm hoping to have more.  I'm planning on making some new clothes soon, too!  I'll post those as they come.  See you all later!