Here's a small bit of how lunch went
for me and my toddler shadow the other day.
We were out and about, running an errand or two for "Mummy" when hunger rumbles began from the backseat in the form of whimpers and crabby growls. I had been trying to ignore similar groanings from my own tummy and found relief in the company of a little boy having the need for edible substance. While our stomach's made their request known to all within a reasonable distance from the open car windows my taste buds were searching their vast memories for a remedy. I could tell from the way the discussion was going that fresh veggies, cold-cuts and cheese were going to win the vote so I made hast for the nearest sub shop.
I thank God that this toddler really has no qualms when it comes to choosing food. He has eaten nearly anything that I've placed before him from the beginning of our relationship and I like it that way. So my choice was for a Roast Beef sub with cheddar and a wide selection of veggies. As I waited for the careful wrapping of our lunch and the choco-chip cookie that was so eloquently suggested by my small companion he found a table just right for two with a view out the window and an equally pleasing view of the other diners who were enjoying the establishment (we're both people watchers).
All went smoothly for the first few minutes. I unwrapped our provisonary sub and began to tear pieces just his size and place them on a bit of the wrapping while he sampled the soda a couple of times. Soon the eating began. We were both quite satisfied with what was provided for just a few dollars and could not have asked for anything more. Then it happened, that thing which always happens while dining with an almost two-year-old. The food is no longer seen as necessary for life but rather a distraction from other more important endeavors like smiling at the random construction worker and wandering to the lap of the most familiar adult.
Even though this was not what I had in mind for our little outing, I was not disturbed or frustrated with his distractions but rather sought to deal with it in the most suitable manner. I willing held the young boy and according to my experience had a firm grip on his waist ensuring that he could not depart from his new found seat. Then I skillfully moved his meal to the same side of the table and commenced to suggest each bite in the most alluring manner. My meal was finished and this alone remained on our to do list for this stop and I was confident that it could be accomplished. But that was before, before the manager tried to help.
It must be a lovely thing to be the manager of a restaurant which offers toys to small children with their meals because should the need arise you can opt to offer said toy to a less advantaged child who is distracting his/her parents from the task they actually arrived for, eating. However this was not the case for myself and my young companion. Therefore the presentation, although met with a smile from both the child and myself was not helpful to the task at hand but rather a further distraction.
Soon after the suggestion of a high chair was made and the manager mad her way back to managing, my toddler and I made ready to leave. I recognized that the furtherance of this endeavor would indeed be pointless as the toy, which I couldn't take away at this point, was infinitely more important that dietary needs.
