Last week on the pod, I discussed how much I was looking forward to heading out on Christmas Eve for dinner at Logan’s Steakhouse (not a sponsor). Much to my dismay, I found out the day after recording that when my mother-in-law called to make the reservation, Logan’s was full. The next logical option was Outback Steakhouse.
My first thought when I found out about this change was “Hell yes, UPGRADE!” because Outback Steakhouse notoriously has better dead cows than Logan’s. To say I was excited for my slice of medium rare Heaven, would be the understatement of this Christmas season.
However, true to form, going out to dinner with 18 month twins and a freshly turned 4 year old (Happy bday Vera!) things did not go according to plan.
We showed up at the restaurant for a 6pm reservation our standard 17 minute late arrival time. At this point I’m thinking I will be directed right to my seat where there will be a waitress waiting to take my beer order. I was shocked to see all 14 of our other family members mulling around the lobby when I walked in with my 3 hoodlums and Chelsea.
Fast forward 45 minutes and we finally get word from the manager that the area we are supposed to be sitting in has some other mouth breathers sitting around chatting after dinner and we can’t be seated until they leave. By this time in the evening, my twins had made their rounds throughout the entire restaurant, Vera already opened her birthday present, and my breath still did not smell like beer.
I would also like to point out that Kamden and Sawyer (twins) go to bed every night at 6pm. Side-note: I know that is crazy but they sleep 13-14 hours a night and I’m gonna ride that train as long as it’s pulling into the station.
So we are pushing 7:10 when the manager returns to tell us he is doing his best and offers up some free appetizers to keep us from going postal on his ass. I’m already ready to call it a night and cuddle up next to the fire place watching Home Alone (not a sponsor). Not because anything particularly was going wrong, aside from us not being seated, but because the babies needed a bed… and quickly.
7:20 rolls around and we are finally heading for the table. Being the gentleman I am, I arrive at the table last, allowing others to grab prime seating. HUGE MISTAKE. I get plopped down at the kid table. Now don’t get me wrong, Coach Kent luv da kidz. But this is daddy’s Christmas too, and daddy need some drinky drink. But first; PHOTO TIME!
Ahhh, look at that happy family. Everyone is seated, everyone is ready to eat, everyone is excited to enjoy some Christmas fellowship with loved ones. Oh and for the record I did not ask any of these people if I could post a picture of them on my blog. I’m expecting at least two angry text messages. I’m also slightly banking on the fact that no one in our family will actually read this so this is a calculated risk.
So anyways, everyone’s happy and having a good time.
But wait… enhance… enhance… enhance…
That -ladies and gentlemen- is the face of a man who just chased three kids around in a lobby for an hour before being seated at the children’s table for dinner.
Now in my kid’s defense, they were actually on their best behavior the entire 11 minutes we were sitting at that table. That’s right, I placed my to-go order of smokehouse quesadillas, grabbed the kids and headed for the hills. Leaving behind only an empty 20 oz beer mug and my wife.
That beer disappeared faster than me when it was time to do dishes on Christmas day. And once it was gone, so was I, back at the house with the babies fast asleep before Chelsea took her first bite of steak.
Dinner didn’t go the way I expected it to. You know what though, that’s okay. That’s what happens when you are back home with your crazy families for Christmas. To be honest, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Merry Christmas Outback Steakhouse (not a sponsor)!