It's just too stupid.
After E's game - that finished at 7:15pm
- several of the parents thought it would be good idea if we all went out for
dinner. 15-20 people. 8 o'clock. Friday night. Route 1. No reservation. Family
friendly restaurant. "Are you sure, Elizabeth? I had other plans for dinner."
"No daddy, everyone's going." We get there late (without Charles, who couldn't
be less interested in eating Mexican food with grown-ups and 12 year old girls
and their younger siblings) about 8:15. I'm told a 50 minute wait. For dinner.
Start doing the math. At 9:30-ish we are seated. At two tables. Because seating
15-20 people on a Friday night on Route 1 with no reservation at a family
friendly restaurant.... You get what you get. The waitress takes our orders a
little after 10pm. Consider the math here.
There were no dads there who ever
thought this was a good idea, btw. No happy male grown-ups. Did we guys sit
togther? Yes. Did we use invective? Harsh language? Yes and yes.
On the way home (and Chas wisely gave up
and is staying at Wave tonight), I am told the the softball uniform needs to be
washed before the game tomorrow ("why don't you have quarters?"), there is an
extra-credit science project at the lake that starts at 9AM tomorrow that
"everyone" is doing, and that "Everyone is going to a friend's softball game at
12pm tomorrow, so can I go?" And her softball game is at 2:30pm. Consider the
math here, too.
Fine. I say. You make it happen. "Well,
daddy, you wake up early. Can you get me up to do the laundry?" Maybe, I say. I
was really looking forward not having to get up early; we'll see. "So you're
going to deliberately sleep in so I can't wash my uniform and get to the lake?"
Elizabeth, I say, it would be best if you stopped talking and we went to bed.
Let's see where we are in the morning.
So she went right to bed, told me to
turn the TV off so she could sleep.
And here I am.
Smiling to myself. Thinking
how petty that all is. And wishing I could have told you in person (or phone),
so you could get the full. Inflection. Of my voice. And remembering that I
should have said, and I can hear you say it now, "Sorry, Elizabeth. Maybe next
time. We have other plans tonight. "
