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Health & Fitness

Restaurant Behavior

A treatise on behavior, both good and bad, in restaurants.

I have written before, in other venues, about children and restaurants and how badly they mix sometimes. I've even berated restaurants and parents both because of children misbehaving in restaurants. Today I'm going to turn the tables on myself. Today I'm going to praise children in restaurants, and a little bit more.

I'll start out with our own grandchildren. Recently, we found granddaughters Olivia (henceforth known as Ollie) and Gracelyn (Gracie to me) were going to be with us over suppertime. Not long before, my wife had undergone minor surgery with major aftereffects and she was getting a bit tired of eating the few meals I know how to cook without putting on a major production of cookbooks, most of our cooking pots, every appliance in that counter top container, and a good deal of fresh and expensive components. Rachel Ray I'm not. I'm not even that guy with the funny hair and a Camaro convertible who seems to find all the bad food in America.

To avoid the drama of me cooking a meal for her, Gracie and Ollie, she suggested a trip to Blazers, a Statham restaurant specializing in wings, but with a pretty extensive menu for other tastes. I agreed without thinking.

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Just about as soon as we stepped inside the friendly confines of Blazers, I began to worry. There were a couple of other children in there and one little boy seemed taken with our pretty blonde 5 year old Ollie. At Blazers, you go to the counter to make your order, then find a table and shortly your meals are delivered. We made our order and as we were deciding which table, 2½ year old Gracie began to twirl and dance. I knelt down in front of her and in a very low voice told said, “Gracie, we are in a restaurant and everybody has to be on their best behavior.” 

Rather than start crying immediately as she usually does when I scold her, she just shrugged her shoulders and got up in her chair next to her Nanny. Throughout the meal, both Gracie and Ollie remained on their best behavior. They ate their hotdogs and fries and Gracie ate most of her applesauce, only spilling a little on her dress. I was delighted with their behavior.

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But this isn't necessarily about my own grandchildren. On Fathers Day, my wife treated me to a meal at one of our favorite Athens restaurants, DePalmas on Timothy Road. The day was beautiful, warm without being hot, and almost no wind, so we opted to sit outside on the empty patio. We hadn't even made our choices from the menu when we were joined on the patio by a family with three children, all of whom had the prettiest, thickest hair I'd ever seen on a child, and all of whom were under the age of six. I shuddered in anticipation of my meal being interrupted by screaming children running helter-skelter around the patio.

My fears were nearly realized when, before the waiter had even stopped by, the oldest child jumped up on the small stage, followed by the next oldest, and began jumping up and down, causing the makeshift structure to thump loudly. To his credit, their father immediately got up and escorted the little girls off that stage and out on to a patch of lawn at the rear of the patio. Out of my eyesight, I only heard the sounds of children enjoying themselves, so I don't know what they were doing, but it certainly wasn't interfering with my pleasure.

Daddy and the girls came back onto the patio when the waiter brought out their drinks. Shortly the oldest, left the table and came to the fence near our table, running her fingers over the curved iron work and looking out onto the parking lot with a sullen look on her face. “Oh, boy,” I thought, “Here it comes.”

This time Mommy came to the rescue. She went to her daughter and knelt in front of her and said something. I'd like to think she said, “We are in a restaurant and everybody has to be on their best behavior,” or at least something to that effect. Whatever it was, it worked. They returned to their table and for the rest of the time we were there, all three children behaved magnificently.

I said a silent “Thank you” to those young parents who have apparently instilled a sense of decorum in their children even at such an early age.

Now, if that other man on the patio could have shown the same consideration to them as they showed to him. His telephone rang a little over half way through his meal and he spent the rest of the time he was there, eating and talking on the telephone. That was rude and that man showed no respect for his fellow diners and he certainly set a bad example for those well-behaved children. But it was, after all, Fathers Day, and even though it was my son calling from Texas, I should have at least gone out into the parking lot, or asked him if I could call him when I got home. I didn't, and I'm ashamed.

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