So, many of you Mums and Dads of Only Children may at some point take your Only Child to a Character experience restaurant, or a family restaurant with a buffet.
My recent experiences with buffet tables and buffet etiquette have led me to be extremely self-aware of my Only Child status. Take for example a recent encounter at a breakfast buffet table...
My Only Child and I were behind a Mother and her two children at a special buffet table. 'Special', because it was an invite only special event for kids. This Mother was very studious in holding each child's plate and loudly giving them their culinary options for breakfast. Each child would give feedback on each dish offered, and would whine periodically as their Mother would say, "They don't have any of that...".
Anyway, after what seemed like five minutes, two other children ran over to said Mother and she then selected another two plates. Now, keep in mind that the people in the line were already whispering displeasure at this Mother's "hogging" and "hold up" of the buffet line. There was no way of getting past her - such was her physical barricade of the buffet table.
I thought to myself, 'surely she wont start this process over for these two other little cherubs will she? surely she can see she has held up the line long enough?'. My thought process was hopeful - for said Mother of four did indeed start the process over, and seemed flustered doing so. I empathized with the 'flustered' feeling - but therein ended the empathy and sympathy.
My Only Child was patient, and carefully observed this Mother of four; She looked up at me a couple of times to see my reaction to this buffet sociology. I smiled back at my Only reassuringly, while I saw said Mother glance at us, and the other patient families in the line. It honestly felt like ten minutes of waiting...
Eventually, my Only Child and I were 'allowed' access to the breakfast plates - we walked along, selecting the culinary delights we wanted. I know what my Only Child likes, and she in turn knows what Mummy likes. We went to pick up our breakfast drinks, but alas, there were no jugs of orange juice left. The waiter said we had to wait a moment while the kitchen delivered some more.
While we waited patiently (again), I spyed said Mother of four sitting watching her four cherubs eat their breakfast. The eating cubicles were sofas and coffee tables (it was an 'arty' special event). On said Mother's coffee table were the two jugs of orange juice. 'Oh great, take all the freaking orange juice too', I thought. But then again, I suppose it was better she took the jugs, then make us wait for each glass to be poured...
