A Chili Day for Football

It was late in our day and we made the unfortunate decision to take the boys to Chili’s for dinner. It’s not that they were being bad, they were being themselves. I wasn’t tolerating their normal hyper state as well as I usually do. I mean by this point, I know full well what I am getting myself into when we are dining out with the boys. I couldn’t blame it on not knowing what to expect. I just wasn’t in the mood. Sometimes I’m like that. Lucky, lucky Mad Dog.

When I married Mad Dog, I also had full disclosure. I knew that realistically our weekends during football season would revolve around Buckeye games. I can’t complain about it or wish it away. It is what it is.

The part that trips me up is that not only do we have to watch the Buckeyes (and dress in Buckeye jerseys every time they have a game) but we have to watch a bunch of other meaningless (my opinion) games. I don’t understand why we have to watch the Arizona Cardinals simply because the former Buckeye, Beanie Wells, is on their roster. Or why we have to make sure USC is trampled so the Buckeyes reputation can be redeemable in the land of the BCS (I don’t even know what the BCS stands for, all I know is where the Buckeyes rank in the BCS determines the mood of my husband). Can’t we only watch a nice, tidy re-cap of all these other games when it is convenient? Granted, nothing is ever convenient when raising a family. Still, I am holding out for that dream.

So, there we were. Eating our incredibly healthy fried and cheese covered meals, and I’m not having it.  T.Puzzle is especially over-the-top. He keeps running his car along the wooden blinds which I tell him not to about forty-seven times. The blinds are dusty and unstable and I keep picturing the whole of them crashing on our table and the table behind us. He keeps on doing it. Then he grabs his napkin and puts it on my head and says, “Hat, Mommy, hat.” Yes, yes, I understand it’s adorable. Again, I just wasn’t in the mood.

Almost on cue as my frustration with T.Puzzle is rising, Full Speed announces he has to use the bathroom. Mad Dog and I knew this was coming. How, you may wonder? Well, Full Speed did ask us once we were seated and strapped in our car on our way to the restaurant if they had bathrooms at Chili’s. We tried to convince him to try to go at home. He said, no, he was just WONDERING if they had bathrooms. It was no wonder to us when he needed to use them.

As Mad Dog and Full Speed leave the table, T.Puzzle is upset. He wants to go with them and dives over me and lunges towards the floor. I manage to redirect him and again, he starts with the gross blinds and the car.

When Mad Dog and Full Speed return, I am now silently praying that our waitress will bring us our check. It’s clear the boys are on the edge. So am I. I feel pretty confident Mad Dog is clued in to the situation and I am relieved when he leaps up from the table. Good, he must be going to track down our waitress and the check.

Oh, no. Oh no he is not. He is animatedly jumping up because he can see the USC game and apparently something great is happening (as if I give a damn!). He does this to me two more times. Each time he jumps a tiny part of my heart is hoping he gets the check instead of the score. Never happened. Instead, I am forced to not so gracefully escort T.Puzzle  from Chili’s as he has reached a point of no return. Ah, football and tantrums, they apparently never go out of style.