We are out and about. It is nearing lunchtime. Mark asks me, “You want to grab something to eat while we’re out?”
“Sure, but just pick something. Don’t ask the girls what they want to eat. They will never be able to agree and then the car will just fill with whining and complaining. Maj gets overwhelmed, Kallan gets contrary, and you get all passive-aggressive and weird.”
Maj leans forward, “We are right here, you know. We can hear you, Mother.”
“Yeah,” Kallan agrees, “It’s pretty rude of you to just assume that we won’t be able to agree on lunch.”
Mark is all good-Daddyish, “Your mother is exaggerating. OK, ladies. Let me think and I will give you some choices.”
People? At this point? Mark is dead to me.
Despite being dead, Mark continues talking. Which is just such a fucking shame.
He says, “Alright, so here are your options . . . we could go to Jack-in-the-Box or Wendy’s or Baja Fresh.”
Kallan votes, “Wendy’s!”
Maj yells out, “Jack-in-the-Box!”
And Mark says sadly, “I was thinking that Baja Fresh sounded good.”
Seriously?
The three of them squabble and argue and bicker as I search the glove compartment for cyanide capsules.
Mark suddenly yells for quiet, “Let’s go to Taco Bell!”
Maj hates that idea.
“What about Burger King?”
Kallan hates Burger King.
Mark throws out the names of five or six other restaurants and the girls shoot all of these ideas down. Maj and Kallan would like to go to for pizza, but Mark is not really feeling pizza. Maj and Kallan suggest McDonald’s. Mark hates McDonald’s.
Mark suggests Costco for hot dogs.
Kallan agrees immediately.
Maj is not pleased, “Hot dogs are disgusting. I am tired of watching you people eat hot dogs. They are made of ground up animals stuffed into a tube, and that is disgusting. I want to throw up when I see hot dogs.”
Kallan is curious, “How is a hamburger better, Maj? That’s just ground-up cow.”
Maj turns to her sister, “I like hamburgers, OK? But now that you said that? I don’t want a hamburger either. Daddy? I need a restaurant with no ground-up animals.”
And so then of course Mark suggests we find a nice steak place.
And Maj freaks out.
Like seriously freaks out . . . she fills the car with angry screaming about how she is never eating animals again and how Daddy is horrible and cruel and how she cannot eat meat if people are going to remind her that she is eating pieces of animals and isn’t choosing a place to eat supposed to be fun because she is not having fun SHE IS NOT HAVING FUN and also she hates this family.
She finishes her tirade and throws herself back in her seat. Kicks angrily at the back of my seat. Glowers and fills the car with radiant hateful energy. Announces that she will not be eating, and we should just take her home.
Mark is all soothing and tries to fix the situation, “We could go to Baja Fresh!”
Snort! Mark does have his moments.
Maj is seething, “First of all? I hate their food. Second of all? We already rejected that place. And third of all? You know that place makes me want to barf. Like seriously barf. Do you want me to barf while you are eating, Daddy? Really?”
Turns out Mark does not want that.
Mark stops at the bank for a minute and I ask him to take Kallan with him so that I can talk to Maj.
“Hey, Maj?”
“What? I hate this family and I am not eating. WHAT?”
“I do not care what you eat or do not eat, but you cannot freak out like this. You are not allowed to yell and scream at us. Get it under control before they get back or I am making you eat at Puppy Chow.”
“What?”
“It’s this new place I heard about with a big pen of puppies in the front window. You pick the puppy you want, and they cook it up while you wait.”
There is silence for a moment as Maj considers this.
And then she surprises me.
She giggles, “OK, I will eat at Puppy Chow. But I want a whole-grain dog.”
Snort!
“Make a note, Mother! I want a hairless whole-grain dog!”
Mark and Kallan climb back into the car.
Mark looks at me hopefully, “So where are we eating lunch?”
Someone needs to make a decision, so I speak definitively, “Let’s go to Panda Express.”
Maj leans forward to protest, “That wasn’t even on our list of possibilities!”
Kallan pipes up, “Yeah, Mom! No one but you wants to eat at Panda Express!”
I turn to face them, “Oh, but you’re wrong! Daddy is all excited about going to Panda Express.”
I turn back to face Mark, “Right, babe?”
Mark is busy burrowing in the center console, flipping through the papers he finds there, “I wonder if we have a coupon for Chevy’s? Is there a Chevy’s around here, you think? Or maybe Pollo Loco. Taco Bell is still an option, I think.”
Dead . . . to . . . me.
But he kept on talking.
Sigh.
We ended up at Baja Fresh.
Of course we did.
OMG, I’m dying! Hilarious!
So much funnier in the retelling than in the living.
Sigh.
So much funnier.
So funny – I could picture Maj’s fit in living colour. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: So-glad-I-don’t-have-girls! lol
Are all girls like this?
Sigh.
The fact is . . . the girls would be much better behaved if someone who shall remain nameless but who is in fact named Mark would behave himself.
Stupid husband.
Just SAY you want to eat at Baja Fresh!
Why must we go through this nonsense?
Ack.
I love this! But seriously. Men. This one’s right up there with when I make a face or murmur an aside which I do not want anyone but him to hear, and he’s all “What’s wrong?” or “What did you say?”, loud enough for everyone to hear. And then I have to smile and pretend I didn’t say anything, or that it wasn’t important. And I know it’s not just my husband because my mom says my dad does it to her all the time. Do you go through that, too?
Here’s how you deal with that . . .
When your husband draws attention to the fact that you have said or done something you do not want to share?
Just speak loudly and say, “You need to stop obsessing, babe. I said it was fine. That sort of thing happens to all men at some point. Let it go.”
And then walk away.
Yay!
Problem solved.
OMG. You have reaffirmed my total love and devotion to you. I was just going to comment on how my husband does that shit all the time (What Mrs. Jen B mentioned) and then I read your response. Dear God…I love you so…and I’m SO going to do that the next time my husband announces something I deliberately kept quiet.
*sigh*
Ms. WTH?
Hee hee!
I love you.
Very very much.
I need to use that one. My husband likes to overshare things I find slightly embarrassing.
Grrrr.
Oh, I cannot wait for these stories.
I . . . cannot . . . wait.
I have a very good memory. In that I mean a very bad memory. If I remembered everytime someone embarrassed me, I would never leave the house.
And I don’t leave the house much now.
But next time it happens I will try to remember to share.
or not.
:)
Hmmph.
Do you carry a tape recorder?
Next time you say just pick something and he caves. Just start a recording of the last time. Save everyone the trouble of doing it all over.
And then insist it’s your turn. And go Panda Express.
I make notes as they talk.
But no tape recorder.
And guess what?
If I did make a recording, Mark would not be convinced to change his ways. I seriously think he finds enjoyment in these stupid arguments about lunch.
Seriously.
And there is the added benefit of driving me completely insane.
Mark lives for that.
Pretty sure.
That would be a wonderful blog for him to start!
“What I On Purpose Did To Make Kris Crazy Today”
Oh wait. You already tell us.
But it might be fun in his words.
Mark does not have the words with which to tell his story.
Luckily for me.
Just this morning, he asked me for a word that meant “disparate.”
Oh but wait!
That’s the word he wanted . . . “disparate!”
Snort!
I am in no danger of having my stories told by my husband.
At all.
So funny!!! I cant wait to have these experiences with children. Except, after reading this, I will not give them an option. (We will see how well this works out for me, it probably won’t, joy.)
;)
Sometimes giving the girls a choice works, but it has to be made clear at the outset that Dad gets the final word.
Mark always acts as though they are all equals.
Sigh.
They sort of are all equal . . . three big uncooperative children.
Sigh.
Okay now, this took an unexpected turn for me. I so expected that when you said Panda Express and Kallan countered with the fact that you are the only one that wanted Panda Express, that you would counter back with the fact that Maj is okay with eating pets, so Panda Express would work. Of course, that’s only funny if you believe the rumors that Chinese restaurants use cats in their food. And if not, umm, well, umm, just ignore me. ;-)
Oh, babe!
You know me well!
That is exactly why Panda Express popped into my mind!
But I was not looking to cause trouble, so I didn’t mention the pets in the food rumor.
You know me well.
Love that!
Happy sighs at knowing you so well. I’m glad I guessed right, because otherwise I would have sounded like a complete nut job!
Hee hee!
We’ll be nut-jobs together.
Tell Maj I had Indian food for lunch. No meat. My husband would eat hot dogs three meals a day. I figure at that rate? He will truly be… dead to me Heehee!
The girls are not big fans of Indian food.
And Maj’s plans to be a vegetarian are somewhat hampered by the fact that she despises most vegetarian food. That, and she really enjoys the taste of most meat-based meals.
Snort!
If Mark ate three hot dogs a day?
He and our overly-flatulent Labrador would have to start sharing sleeping quarters.
Not even.
Oh, trust me! I am a big fan of meat based products. So long as they are not ground up and stuffed into tube casings; only to be eaten by the 12 pack. The smell alone makes me head toward the door!
Stuffed Panda; I can do. The husband is ALL about the buffets; but then he’s nearly six and a half foot tall! Trying to decide where to go and eat (just the two of us now) is so relatable to this blog!
“Where do you want to go?
I feel like ( _)
No, I don’t want that…
Fine. What do you want?
I don’t know…
Suffice it to say: I eat a turkey sandwich while holding my nose; as he’s microwaving a package of hot dogs.
Our large dog? Flatulent. The two of them combined? Need to share sleeping quarters! I’ll run that past him… great idea!
Tell your daughter? Word on the street has it; dog food and biscuits are rather bland. Don’t ask. All I can tell you is I’m not going to try ‘em!! EVER!
Brenda -
I forgot that! You mentioned that your husband microwaved packages of hot dogs once before!
Ewwww. Stinky messy ewwwww.
I hate buffets. Mark is not six and half feet tall, but even if he was, I would hate buffets. A lot.
Flatulence? Of the dog and husband sort?
Sigh.
And dog food?
Not that bad.
Bland and crunchy.
Not that bad.
Lol Hilarious. Loved the part about you taking them to eat puppies at Puppy Chow and Maj’s response. Food decisions need to be swift and carried out by one person or mayhem will ensue. My brothers and I as kids did the same thing to our parents whenever they would ask us where to eat. They had much better success telling us where to eat.
Thank you, babe!
Yes . . . If there is more than one child involved? You cannot just ask them where they would like to eat.
You know that.
I know that.
The children in my family?
All three of them . . . do not know that.
Hmmmph.
This sounds like me and the hubs, without even asking Kylah (she’s 4, and Jude is too young to eat real food).
Hubs: Let’s go out to eat, you pick anything you want and we’ll go.
Me: Ok let’s go try that new mexican place.
Him: No, I don’t want mexican.
Me: Ok then let’s get chinese.
Him: Nope, I’m not feeling chinese either.
Me: Sigh. Italian? Sushi? Barbeque?
Him: Nah, let’s get subs.
And then I strangle him to death. He does this EVERY TIME. Why tell me to pick if you’re just going to veto everything and then pick yourself? Because he likes to drive me coocoo bananas, that’s why. And when the kids are older, were putting restaurant names in a hat and drawing one, and that’s where we’ll eat, end of discussion. That’s my plan anyway. Hey, maybe you could try that, and let the girls take turns drawing restaurants. Let me know if it works!
Sigh.
Yes, I have had these sorts of discussion with Mark.
They always end with me yelling . . .
AUGH! Why do you do this? Just tell me where you want to eat and then let’s go eat there! I don’t care! Stop asking me when you obviously have a secret plan. What is the plan, babe? Spill it! You are driving me insane!
And the restaurants in a hat thing would be fabulous if Mark was not involved.
Seriously.
He would so not be on board with that plan.
Sigh.
LOL! I love your post! I just wish my husband would stop asking Zoe for restaurant suggestions. How long will it take him to realize that she is only going to say Burger King, McDonald’s, Subway or McAlister’s Deli. That’s it. Why even bother to ask? LOL! They never learn!
No.
They don’t seem to ever learn.
What’s up with that, you think?
Hold on . . . let me ask Mark.
He says, “You are annoying me, Kris.”
Hee hee!
I never learn.
Oh jeebus. How oh how has he not figured out yet what a catastrophe this was going to be? Seriously. I am appalled. I have extra cyanide caps if you need them. I like to wash them down with draino.
I really think Mark enjoys these discussions.
He must.
Drives me up the fucking wall.
Perhaps he likes me insane.
Snort!
If we loaded up your family with mine in my mini van, we could put my dead man talking in the front with yours, buckle up all the arguing kids in the back, shut the doors and run off for margaritas!
Screw ‘em all! :D
Screw ‘em all?
Oh, happy sighs at the thought of running off for margaritas and leaving them to fend for themselves.
Swoon!
Yes . . . Screw ‘em all!
okay now I am ALL hungry and would seriously eat at any of those places.
Here is what we do in times like this. Go to the mall with the big ass food court. everybody wins!
whole grain puppy!! snort!
A secret?
I hate mall food courts.
So that solution will not work because of me.
Serious food court hatred.
Also?
I hate salad bars and buffets, in case anyone is taking notes.
Buffets are sick. Especially Golden Corral (have those out west? or just in fatso land Indiana?). We call it “The Golden Trough.” America at its worst.
Agreed.
Just the smell of a buffet makes my stomach turn.
Never mind the sight.
Can’t do it.
Bleagh.
Needless to say?
Mark and the girls LOVE buffets.
Of course they do.
Snort.
Ground up puppy.
Had just the effect you wanted didn’t it? Startled the hell out of her drama-fit. I love it! Something tells me to file that particular battle away as my daughter (and for the last 6 months my son as well) is a massive drama queen – like look out Susan Lucci drama queen.
I’m going to go mark that one down someplace as I will never remember it if I don’t.
Hahahahahaha! Puppy chow {shaking head} I love it tee hee hee!!
Thanks!
M
Oh, I do love when I can startle Maj out of one of her crabby tweenie rages.
Love that.
Love that you laughed and that you are making a note that you will never ever be able to find when the moment for that not arrives.
Love that so fucking much.
Wait! I had a note here about the perfect thing to say and do! Where is that note?
Snort!
Seriously – are you in my house?!?!?!
That WILL be me at some future point in time!!
M
ps – what you said to that woman about how to handle a man’s comment, let me see # 3 up above (yes, I did go up to check what number she was – i have no short-term memory at all! I’d blame the anesthesia but it took away most of the pain so it doesn’t feel right blaming that…) OMG – I laughed so hard I had to run to the bathroom – seriously I bow to you.
Love you.
Love that you noticed that comment.
Hee hee!
My family, all of whom are over the age of 18, STILL has this argument when it’s time to pick a brunch/dinner place when we’re together. It’s exacerbated by the presence of 2 insincere people (dad and bro) and one sincere person (mom) and one “You ASKED me to find a place and nobody wants to go there so SCREW YOU” person (…me).
Here in the secrecy of my comments?
I will tell you that Mark’s parents are EXACTLY like Mark.
And sometimes when we all sit around and discuss where we are going to eat lunch?
I want to bonk all of their heads together in cartoonlike fashion.
But I don’t.
Because I love Mark.
And I love his parents.
Ahem.