This article may contain affiliate links; if you click on a shopping link and make a purchase I may receive a commission. As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.
Emerson patiently waiting for her adult meal and “cocktail”
You are a rock star. A total awesome rock star.
Saturday after playing at the beach, we went to have lunch. You were sandy and tired and had a soggy diaper but you were game for a new experience. We walked to the Back Porch Café – your Aunt Debbie and I wanted to check this place out after reading many rave reviews and hearing it’s the hot spot for DC movers and shakers who visit Rehoboth Beach.
We didn’t even think of the fact that it may not be kid-friendly. The woman who greeted us was pleasant enough, but admitted they didn’t have highchairs and put a dusty booster seat on the equivalent of a kitchen chair. I said it was fine, you were a pretty chill kid and I prayed that you would be exactly that.
And you were. And more. It’s like you KNEW that this place wasn’t kid friendly and you wanted to prove to them that not every child is a whiny, crying mess.
When the waitress asked what we wanted to drink, you asked for apple juice in such a sweet way. She admitted they didn’t have it, and only had the type of juices that are popular for cocktails. I ordered you pineapple juice, and they brought it out in a footed cocktail glass with ice. And you carefully drank from the straw, never spilling, not trying to stick your cracker or hands in it.
When I realized there was no kid menu and the waitress stated they couldn’t alter the menu to make it kid-friendly, Aunt Debbie suggested the fruit and cheese plate. You carefully ate grapes and strawberries from the plate, chowed down on the crackers, and even enjoyed several bites of blue cheese. You didn’t make a mess of the table or yourself, you didn’t scream, you didn’t fuss. You were graceful and polite and aware.
I saw a woman staring from across the restaurant. Mouth agape with a slight smile. She realized I saw her staring and she replied, “she’s a good eater!” Yes, my child prefers blue cheese to chicken nuggets, which can be a PITA when we have a road trip break at McDonald’s but is quite lovely for times like this.
When we left the restaurant, you walked out with confidence, waving and saying, “Bye! See you soon!” to all the patrons. They all smiled and waved back. You changed their opinion of toddlers, you fabulous little rock star. I couldn’t be more proud!