I like Red Robin burgers as much as the next person, but I really never thought of it as a fun place. Until, that is, I was there with Beep. It turns out Red Robin is totally, completely crazyfun.
First, there is coloring. WITH TWO CRAYONS.
Interspersed with staring at people in other booths.
Now, I hate it when restaurants sing Happy Birthday to patrons. I maintain that nobody really wants it to happen. When did anyone ever say "I had the best birthday EVER. The servers sang to me!!! It totally made my whole year!"
It's disruptive to everyone in the general vicinity and annoying to both me and, well, me. Super irritating.
I saw how Beep looked at it, though, and I was momentarily converted. Why not sing Happy Birthday to someone? It's fun! And clappy! Even with crayonhands!
After the birthday extravaganza, it was back to the coloring, this time with the beatific glow that accompanies taking real joy in other people's happiness. Cuz that's what happens at burger joints.
...And then she moved on to discovering the joys of two-fisting it. She's equally good with both hands, which has me mildly concerned about her future collegiate minor in beer drinking.
Next up on the Red Robin agenda was tasting a lime.
Mohawk? Don't mind if we do.
Then came the best part of lunch: the pre-meal fry basket. Since we're such fastidious, our-baby-must-always-look-perfect kind of parents, we naturally put her in a high chair with bib, baby utensils, and other responsible accoutrements.
Cabbage definitely did not use a fry to wipe the ranch from her mouth. He didn't.
Ok, yes he did.
Did I mention we had been dragging this baby all over creation for hours? It's true. By this point she'd missed one nap altogether and was an hour past her second nap time and two hours past lunchtime. The feeling of dread and impending doom was growing.
The above lack of napping/eating/planning pretty much guarantees Toddler Armageddon. Remember that scene from Indiana Jones in the Raiders of the Lost Ark, when Indy is running like hell in front of the huge boulder which exists only to crush the sparkle of light from his eyes? Now imagine Cabbage and me (combined) as Indy and the no-napping-no-lunch baby monster as the boulder. It was gaining on us, and we were about to be flattened. The fries and ranch were like giving Indy a Segway with a jetpack.
Well, that was a trip down random lane.
My point is, Beep was entitled to have as many fries as she wanted. Our parenting strategy focused on survival: heavy on the fries and ranch, light on the table manners.
Whatev. Just keep on keepin' on, Best Baby in the World.
And thanks for bringing your own brand of happy to lunchtime.