It’s a jungle out there

In my opinion, one of life’s greatest pleasures is going out to eat. When I find a restaurant with good food and service to match, I consider that to be a successful night.

Like many couples, my wife, Megan, and I thoroughly enjoy indulging in a weekend night out on the town. Our favorite pastime is people watching. We crane our necks to see what they ordered and how they are interacting. Is the conversation juicy? Are they staring at their phones and ignoring each other? Do they have kids with them who are behaving less than desirable?

Oh yes, we spent many years judging those parents whose kids were noisy or messy. If they were sitting on their tablets, watching a show or a movie, we would look at each other as if to say, “Oh, for shame.” Never will our children behave in that manner. They will have civilized conversations at the dinner table. They may even have British accents, even though we are not British. They will say “please” and “thank you” and fit the word “indubitably” into at least three sentences over the course of the night. They will use finger bowls and crumb brushes. They will be the epitome of perfection. Yes, the Rathz children will be the example for all to follow.

Well, the years passed and finally God decided we were worthy to be blessed with children of our very own.

First came Mary, my little girl. About two years later came Pat, my mini-me. When they were newborns, we would try to take them out to dinner with us. For the most part, it was incredibly successful. Turns out, babies sleep … a lot. Even when they would cry, it was to be expected. They were still babies after all.

Then something happened that was completely unexpected. Mary turned two. Then two years later, Pat dared to do the exact same thing. That means that we are currently just over two years deep into a four-year stint of trying to survive the Terrible Twos and Threenager time periods.

Before anyone gets the wrong idea, I want it said that I love my kids more than I could possibly express. They are the best of me, and I know Megan feels the same way. Every child passes through this stage that makes parents want to rip their own eardrums out. Its nature, and possibly karma.

Now, back to how we pictured our perfect restaurant angel children. We still go to restaurants with them. They have to learn how to behave somehow, so we figured practice makes perfect. But nowadays, instead of watching other tables, we are the ones with the audience. I feel like we are the orangutans in the glass box at the Indianapolis Zoo. Oh, and that whole never having tablets at the dinner table thing? We now own a pink tablet for Mary and blue one for Pat. They have Paw Patrol, Peppa Pig, and Bluey on speed dial. We no longer have any need for a crumb brush. Now we need a crumb push broom. By the time we’re finished with our meals and ready to go home, there are hunks of food on the ground that we didn’t even order.

Mary & Pat Rathz sure enjoy their food! Who doesn’t love making messes? (Photos provided by Tim Rathz)

So, our children are noisy and messy, and half the time Pat has a toddler meltdown that would make a Real Housewife blush. They do have tablets and toys and other distractions that allow Megan and I a short break. They do not have British accents, other than the occasional “cheeky” quote from Peppa Pig. They do say “please” and “thank you”, but never “indubitably.” They may not always be the example for all to follow, but they are perfect to me, and I wouldn’t have them any other way.

The moral of the story is … when our table at the restaurant looks, feels and even smells like a zoo, at least I am with my orangutans.

Tim Rathz can be reached at 40somethinginfishers@gmail.com. Follow on Facebook or Instagram.