Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Birthdays and other hooplas
My son celebrated his 4th birthday this past weekend. My parents who made the trip up from the Florida, were here to celebrate as well. We kicked off our weekend festivities with a trip to our favorite Mexican restaurant a 30-minute drive away. Which is coincidently how long it takes to get to any restaurant or even our local Target for that matter. We were welcomed at the door by our usual over solicitous server, and shown to our table. My son had come home earlier in the day complaining of being to cold, which is not uncommon for him since he thinks anything below 85 degrees is too frigid. His aversion to the cold is matched by his dislike for any music that does not sound like Bobby Darin or big band. Sometimes I think he is an 80year-old trapped in a 4 year-old body. I love this about him, as I always wanted a child that was an old soul. Anywho, we were seated immediately and handed sticky menus with the usual fare served in Mexican restaurants. I ordered the number 3, aka the Speedy Gonzalez. In anticipation of a scalding hot plate, piled high with warm substandard ground meat, and iceberg lettuce, I instead felt new warmth pooling on my pants leg. It took me a few seconds to realize that projectile puke had landed on my jeans, the menu and possibly a line cook. It's parental moments like these, where you really feel like you are having an out of body experience. I surveyed the situation, and realized that it was coming from my lap where my son had decided to hang out while ordering. Within 20 or 30 very long seconds, I was running to the bathroom with a crying 4 year old under my arm, my hand cupped over his mouth. My first thought was, "is this shit really happening to me right now?" My second was, "Am I really running through a crowded Mexican restaurant on a Friday night with a blubbering 4 year-old physically holding back puke from spilling on the floor?" Ah!! WTF!! We hung out in the bathroom, which was remarkably clean and slipped out when the coast was clear. By morning Grey was feeling much better, and seemed that he had recovered enough to enjoy his birthday. And I got to enjoy the joy in his eyes from the simpler things in life like a birthday hug, and a chocolate cupcake.