Oh, entitled parents, how do I hate thee? Let me count the ways, you self-absorbed time suckers who think that the world revolves around you and your precocious brat who won’t shut the hell up even for one second.
Last week, a five top came in; four adults and one diaper-wearing, needy one year old human who required a high chair. I go to greet them at the front door.
“Hello, how are you tonight? Table for five?”
“My baby is starving. I need bread,” snapped the mother.
Really? That’s how we’re going to start our evening together, by you completely ignoring the (fake ass) pleasantries I am offering you? Is it my fault that you, as a mother, failed to bring a goddamn Ziploc baggie of Goldfish to nourish your child during the long trip from you apartment down the street all the way to the restaurant?
What I said: Alright, let me go get some bread for you and then I can pull some tables together for your party to sit down.
What I thought: I’m sorry, but is your baby from some drought stricken country in Africa and he hasn’t had clean water in days? Is your child one of the 15 million who will die of hunger this year? Is he part of the 50% of all children under five years of age in South Asia and one third of those in sub-Saharan Africa who are are malnourished? Is he one out of the eight children in the United States under the age of twelve who goes to bed hungry every night? Or is it that he’s just a little fussy and now you regret throwing away that banana that he didn’t want twenty minutes ago?
I return with the basket of emergency rations and begin to drag two tables together so they can sit down and eat their dinner now that I have practically saved the life of a child who, had it not been for me, would have surely expired. The group sits down and I notice that the child has taken one bite of bread and is now interested in the battery operated candle that is sitting on the table. Starvation averted! Score one for the war against hunger.
“We have a few specials tonight I can tell you about very quickly. Our soup tonight is a chilled corn soup with a cream base. The corn is grilled and it has a red pepper garnish. Our appetizer of the night is-”
“I’m sorry,” mother interrupts. “Can I go ahead and place his order for mac and cheese? He’s really hungry. But no bacon in it.””
I look down at the “really hungry” baby who is mouthing the plastic candle. Right, we don’t want that baby to eat bacon but by all means let him lick that candle that has remnants of Windex, dust and every germ known to mankind.
“I will do it right this second.” I stop pouring water for everyone and firmly set the metal pitcher on the table and leave them to again do my part to solve world hunger, one baby at a time.
“Please rush. This baby is starving,” I type on the order so that that the cooks knows how utterly important it is to get the food right away. I head to the kitchen deciding to wait there until I can return with the sustenance before doing anything else for the table. Six minutes later, the mac and cheese is ready and I go to the table.
“Sorry I didn’t get a chance to finish pouring water but I know how important it is to get food to a starving baby so I stayed in the kitchen until it was ready.” I pick up the pitcher and continue pouring. “So anyway, our appetizer of the night is a roasted beet salad with goat cheese and balsamic dressing…”
Five minutes and two bites of mac and cheese later, the kid is wandering around the restaurant with its mother. Turns out he wasn’t starving after all. It was just another case of an entitled parent thinking that their child deserved special treatment because no other child in the world can be as important as their own. Snap out of it lady. If you’re fortunate enough to be able to afford to eat out at a restaurant, you’re child is not starving. He’s lucky. Most of us who are reading this are lucky.
I hate entitled parents.
Agreed
I hate people like that! This is the same type of mombie who feeds her whining brat with fresh baked goods right there at the grocery store, makes one hella mess with it and then refuses to pay for whatever the kid ate.
Amber Lane
Most of my customers have no idea how much their baby eats, I can only assume the child mortality rate in my area should be higher. For example, most mom’s seem to think their baby will eat a WHOLE plate of fried rice and lo mein. 50% of it ends up on the floor, and MB 5% of it ends up in the kid’s mouth. Meanwhile they need extra napkins that are sitting right next to the stack of buffet plates, one of which they used to attempt to feed their lil’ shitter.
Sam
In one article you bitch about screaming children at restaurants and in the next I read you complain about parents wanting a child’s food brought out first? From the tone of your entitled articles I’m gonna assume you view yourself as a person “who understands the world” or some shit but let me fill you in anyway- children tend to be better behaved when they have food. It’s a technique many parents use when eating out. Occupy the child, prevent the screaming that you find so life shattering, continue on with their meal in relative peace. And the reason she’s now walking around with the toddler? Again to prevent the screaming you loathe. What an inconsiderate bitch.
Mrs Mac
Bitchy wasn’t bitching about the parents wanting the child’s food brought out first ( waiters tend to automatically have children’s meals come out as soon as possible), or that the child was being walked around, only the rude, snappy way entitled mummy decided to behave.
Being the parent of a toddler I totally get that having food in front of them keeps them happy, even if they only eat a mouthful of two. That doesn’t give me the right to be rude and snappy. If you fear your child may get impatient that quickly, take a snack.
anne marie in philly
I HATE children AND entitled mombies! every fucking one of them! and I don’t even work in the food industry!
Emma
Absolute poetry.
Amy
Amazing article. You absolutely nailed it. Every “mommy” needs to read this before their next trip to a restaurant.
Retired and still tired waitress
Gilbey…grow up you snotface!
Gilbey
God you need to think of a way to insinuate that you are going to the back to call Child Protective Services since the mother has made an admission of neglect. You can be an outcry witness and cite your moral duty.