Before Poops McGee, Jeffrey and I used to go out to dinner about four or five times a week. When Mads graced us with her presence, that number plummeted to about five times in six months. It's understandable, babies are so unpredictable, they never sleep when you want them to, and always manage to need a booby right when your entree is served. Madelynn has done fairly well in restaurants the few times we've chanced it, as long as I don't mind eating without any hands.
Tonight we went to dinner, and when the hostess brought over the carseat-slingy-thingy, I asked her for a highchair. "Oh, a highchair?" Yes, a fucking highchair. I figured since Madelynn has become Little Miss Sitting Machine these past couple days, it wouldn't hurt to try. What a difference! Mady sat in her highchair the entire time, playing with toys that I scattered over the little tray, and I ate a completely hot meal. I only had to bend down to pick up all those toys fifty times, and only used half a pack of sani-wipes trying to keep them clean, but it was totally worth it to have a semi-hands-free dining experience.
The planets have aligned.