Saturday, August 8, 2009

I Used To Hate Camping!

This is my memory of Rachael's post Nursing Under Cover.



I can remember it now, just as clearly as if it had happened yesterday.

We're sitting in a nice restaurant. Everyone is hungry. Everyone is talking. Everyone looks like what you would expect to see when a family goes out to dinner.

Except Rachael.

The waiter comes over close to our tables, but always seems to hesitate and then head the other direction at the last minute. You can tell that he's just not quite sure of what to make of the spectacle now sitting before his eyes.

He looks around the room just to be sure that he's still in his restaurant.

Not at Yosemite.
Not at Yellowstone.
Not in the Great Outdoors.

And yet there is a tent sitting at his table waiting to be served. He looks around as if to say, 'Where did this tent come from? I'm pretty sure it wasn't here when I just walked out of the room to the kitchen."

It takes him a few minutes, but he finally realizes that the tent waiting to eat is actually a human being sitting at the table with a blanket pulled completely over their head. Kind of like an advanced form of whatever it was that Linus from Peanuts had.

And when I say advanced, I am speaking more in the sense that a horrible disease is called 'advanced' right before it debilitates you.


It's the first time he's ever met my wife, Rachael.


He tentatively approaches and hesitates before speaking to me.

"Is everything OK sir?"

At this point I can tell that he is considering the options for what is going on at his table. It appears that he has narrowed it down to three possibilities:

1. The person under the blanket is very, very afraid of food and the mere sight of it may make her scream.
2. The person under the blanket has some very raunchy breath and wants to ensure no one else has to suffer through their halitosis.
3. The person under the blanket is clearly clinically insane, and their insanity is quite advanced.

As I look into his eyes, I quickly realize he has opted for option number 3.


I try to ease his mind.


"It's OK. She's fine. She's just nursing."

The transition is quite fascinating to behold.

The waiter first appears to be relieved that he is not going to be attacked by a clinically insane, halitosis wielding mad-man that is afraid of food.

Then he realizes what he just heard.

"She's just nursing?"

He says this as if it is the first time in his life he has ever seen someone set up their own tent just so they could nurse their baby at a restaurant.

Really! He needs to get out more.
Meanwhile, I'm left to fend for myself as everyone in close proximity is slowly sliding away from me at the table.

Apparently, my fire-red embarrassed face is throwing off more heat than the air conditioning can handle.

At this point, I'm tempted to crawl into the tent with Rachael, just so I won't have to show my face. The only thing that stops me is thinking about the reaction of the waiter when he comes out to our table the next time and finds me missing. Of course, he will have his manager in tow:

"Um, sir, this is what I was telling you about. Uh Oh, it looks like we lost another one. I sincerely recommend that we remove this tent from the inside of our restaurant before it swallows any more of our patrons."


OK, OK, so that is probably not what would happen, but I have a hard time thinking when my head is on fire and beet red!

So, I do the one thing that I have tried hard to learn to do well.
I simply try my best to pretend that everything is fine.....


And then I start talking to a tent.


**If you enjoyed this post, be sure to click the 'follow' tab and check out the other stories for other family-friendly humorous material.  Hope you enjoy!   Click the 'share' button to share with your friends. Thanks! -The Poor Husband**


Bookmark and Share

4 comments:

I love your feedback!