Today was a snow day of sorts in the City.  Schools were closed; offices weren’t.  Thank Goodness for telecommuting and play dates with children of similarly situated parents.

POB (partner of blogger) and I split the day being the adult in charge. Then our usual Wednesday babysitter came at 5pm so we could have an early version of our usual Wednesday night dinner date. (I say:  Spend a fortune on babysitters and eat pizza if necessary.  Better than spending a fortune on a couples counselor because you don’t spend enough time together.)

So we went to a neighborhood place that was eerily quiet (even for recessionary times) until we realized it was just before 6pm and that this was dinner time for kids and old people.  So we had the restaurant essentially all to us (except for a somewhat lively bar area in the front).  Shortly after we are seated, a mother and child walked into the restaurant.  The mother had that tone-deaf, high-pitched and loud voice (as in she whispers at the top of her lungs).  And, of course, of all the tables, in all the restaurants in all the places on the Upper West Side, the mother chose the table next to ours.

Really, there were 30 tables available in the restaurant.  And she decided to sit next to us.  I still hear her voice ringing in my ears and that caused ripples in the wine in my glass.  She was talking on her iPhone and reading aloud to her daughter every, EVERY, text she received.

They shared filet mignon and a side dish.  The mother had one glass of Malbec.  She forced me to have TWO.

Happily, they ate quickly and left.  Next time we hit the early bird hour, I am setting up a protective perimeter around our table.   WITH DUCT TAPE.  With some left over to muzzle others, if necessary.