if i wanted to eat with kids at a restaurant i'd bring my own
Saturday night at the local Italian. Husband, teenage children and I gathered for quiet 'quality time' dinner for daughter's 15th birthday. No family fights so far and things are looking good. Busy waitress even smiles indulgently when asked by 15 year old to list the manufacturers of all non-alcoholic drinks on the menu - just so she can avoid anything made by the Coca Cola company.
Just into meal and a bit of bonding when two toddlers at a nearby table decide the restaurant has the makings of an athletics track - up and down the restaurant they run, stopping at our table at each lap for a victory screech. Or three.
Oblivious, or pretending to be, the parents chat merrily to their table companions, a young slightly horrified childless couple. Once or twice, Dad makes a half hearted effort to control his offspring, who by now are positively screaming their way between and under the tables.
I tried to curb my rising temper, reminding myself of a radio program I'd heard not long before by an ex-children's magistrate preaching tolerance of children. You know, 'it takes a village to raise a child" yadda yadda.
Echoing the current consensus on prevention, the magistrate stressed the importance of intervening with disadvantaged families before the kids turned three. Much youth crime and distress had its origins in the 0 - 3 age group, and the impact of helping parents at this stage couldnt be overestimated, she said.
"Children are the responsibility of the entire community", the magistrate argued, and she sure had the runs on the board to comment after 12 years on the bench.
Since I'd heard the talk I'd been somewhat inspired, and uncharacteristically offered to help young mothers on trains, buses, in shopping malls, and smiled supportively when 2 year old Michelin men struggled to escape their stoller in the supermarket queue. No more judgemental glances, just a friendly, "I know how hard it is, I've been there too" kind of expression.
But my generosity failed me Saturday night.
This wasnt a disadvantaged couple doing it tough in any sense of the word. Laughing, well-heeled, North Shore thirty-somethings using pasta as baby-sitter. It's not the kids' fault, they were just being kids - noisy and boistrous - and having a ball.
Sadly, they and their family were the only ones.
Just into meal and a bit of bonding when two toddlers at a nearby table decide the restaurant has the makings of an athletics track - up and down the restaurant they run, stopping at our table at each lap for a victory screech. Or three.
Oblivious, or pretending to be, the parents chat merrily to their table companions, a young slightly horrified childless couple. Once or twice, Dad makes a half hearted effort to control his offspring, who by now are positively screaming their way between and under the tables.
I tried to curb my rising temper, reminding myself of a radio program I'd heard not long before by an ex-children's magistrate preaching tolerance of children. You know, 'it takes a village to raise a child" yadda yadda.
Echoing the current consensus on prevention, the magistrate stressed the importance of intervening with disadvantaged families before the kids turned three. Much youth crime and distress had its origins in the 0 - 3 age group, and the impact of helping parents at this stage couldnt be overestimated, she said.
"Children are the responsibility of the entire community", the magistrate argued, and she sure had the runs on the board to comment after 12 years on the bench.
Since I'd heard the talk I'd been somewhat inspired, and uncharacteristically offered to help young mothers on trains, buses, in shopping malls, and smiled supportively when 2 year old Michelin men struggled to escape their stoller in the supermarket queue. No more judgemental glances, just a friendly, "I know how hard it is, I've been there too" kind of expression.
But my generosity failed me Saturday night.
This wasnt a disadvantaged couple doing it tough in any sense of the word. Laughing, well-heeled, North Shore thirty-somethings using pasta as baby-sitter. It's not the kids' fault, they were just being kids - noisy and boistrous - and having a ball.
Sadly, they and their family were the only ones.
posted by ozdocblog at 4:41 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home