By D. Hanousek

The other night, while my husband and I were enjoying a long overdue romantic dinner at Delfina (to which my husband dutifully and accurately remarked that we have done on Valentine's Day), our leisurely meal and conversation was interrupted by the cries and screams of a wee babe around 3 months or so at the next table. While other diners around us were rolling their eyes and tweeting their dismay, my husband and I would look at each other and simply laugh. I have a confession to make: babies in restaurants don't bug me.

Why, you ask? Because it's not my baby and not my problem. Hearing the shrieking and seeing the angry faces of other diners gives me a sense of relief because this one time, it's not my child acting out. It's not me getting the dirty looks. It's not me trying to grab a forkful of Little Gem salad while bouncing my baby on one knee and trying to get her to chew on Sophie the Giraffe with other hand.

Have I always felt this way about babies in restaurants? Hell no.

One time, back in the pre-child days of my marriage, we were vacationing in Kauai with our dear friends (also a pre-child couple). We splurged on a double-date dinner at Roy's, indulging in multiple courses and wine pairings. To our dismay and frustration, at the next table was a little girl. She wasn't crying or screaming. She was watching Dora the Explorer on full blast on her personal DVD player (this was pre-iPad), which is so much worse. We were livid. The four of us spent the entire meal complaining to each other about this nuisance. And while our meal was divine, the sound of Dora singing about her backpack will forever haunt our memories of this night.

So, yes. I understand how disruptive a child in a restaurant can be, especially when you're paying big bucks and expect to have an elegant experience. This is expressly why I never take my children to a restaurant with a cachet level above Pasta Pomodoro. Even then, I still limit dinnertime outings to before 6:30 pm. But if you're wondering if I offered a knowing smile to the parents at the next table more than a few times . . . yes. Yes, I did.

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