Yesterday was one of those days that you meant to go well, but it didn’t. My husband and I took his 84-year-old mother and our two-year-old daughter to an Indian buffet we go to weekly. It is a small mom and pop restaurant- two sisters work in the front while their parents cook in the back. They have one hired help. We have been going there for many years, and they have watched Polina grow from a newborn to a toddler.

We took my mother-in-law there because we wanted to share with her some of the things we enjoy in this town.  We got the closest table to the window that was available, which also happened to be by the entryway.  That was unintentional mistake number one. Usually Polina sits in a high chair, but since she is tall, that day I let her sit at the table in a regular seat. That was soon to be unintentional mistake number two.

Polina ordered her usual- “raa” (rice.) She went to the buffet and pointed to it for added emphasis. I gave her a little cup of rice and a teaspoon. We each got our food and I sat beside her. Polina used the spoon to feed herself. The unintentional consequence is that some rice missed her mouth and fell on the floor.  (She twists the spoon to get the rice into her mouth, as opposed to covering the spoon with her mouth.)  As she put more spoons into her mouth, more rice fell beside her. At no point did she throw any of the rice onto the floor.  It was an unintentional consequence.

My mother-in-law didn’t think so. I could see she was embarrassed by the mess.

Because we were sitting by the front door, the rice was right in the entryway, possibly carried by feet to the far corners of the restaurant. I did feel bad about the rice on the floor, and perhaps it was a tad worse than usual.  Peter has gathered the grains together with a napkin before, to which the sisters ask him to stop and tell him they will clean it.  I mention this because we do generally try to be considerate.

Then Polina wanted to get down and, as her usual custom, run to the two sisters who work with the customers. The sisters treat her with mango lassi, and when she has had enough, she runs back to our table. This happens every weekend.

Putting her in an adult chair came back to bite me. It was easy for her to get down and run to the two sisters more often than if she were in a high chair. Furthermore, it happened to be a busy lunchtime for them. I kept my eye on Polina. I did not see her be in anybody’s way, but that’s not what my mother-in-law thought. I saw that she was uncomfortable with Polina being able to run back and forth.

I got up to ask the sisters if Polina was in the way. They insisted she was not. I went to the back to get a high chair, but it was stuck on top of the other high chair. I tugged and tugged, but it wasn’t budging. I couldn’t get it off.

I went back to our table. Polina’s small bowl of rice was empty.

“No more rice. She’s had enough,” said my mother-in-law.

She has to eat something, I thought to myself.

“We offer her different foods, but she prefers rice,” I responded.

I could see the disapproval on her face, and I went into defense mode.

“She’s not even two years old yet. She’s using a spoon. She’s not throwing it. How is she supposed to learn? This is how children eat,” I said, aware of my desperation.

“Yes, but not in public,” my mother-in-law responded calmly.

Then we would never eat, I thought to myself. We would never eat anywhere because expecting a two year old to behave like an adult is impossible.

My mother-in-law initially proposed treating us for the meal. We refused, of course. After all of this embarrassment, she used the money to give the sisters a big tip. I wished she had saved her money, because her using it in such a way made me feel uncomfortable in front of them.

That night, I woke up in the middle of the night feeling…. embarrassed. That Indian restaurant is our second home. We tip well and clean up after ourselves to the degree possible. (We do not leave the awful mess I saw so often when I worked as a bus girl for a chain restaurant when I was a teenager.  We stack our plates and put our napkins and silverware on top.  We do what we can to make it easier for the sisters.)  It was an unusual day in that Polina was running around more than usual because of the ease with which she could get off the chair.  And the restaurant was busy.  A perfect storm.

The family has always welcomed Polina with open arms. They take her back into their kitchen (Peter and I joke that when Polina learns to talk, she could tell us their secrets to cooking), give her lassi behind the counter, play and talk to her as time permits. If Polina becomes unruly, we take her out for a walk. It usually means she wants to run around. (Living in an apartment, I don’t blame her.) We do our best so that she is “seen but not heard” there, but I never felt embarrassed to the degree I felt waking up in the middle of the night.

I had a day to recover. The day after, a Friday, we took my mother-in-law to our other favorite Indian buffet. This time, we chose a table outside, and we got a high chair. Polina ate rice as usual, but since we were outside, we knew the birds would eat any rice that fell on the ground. Polina did not run around anywhere and stayed in her high chair.  It was a beautiful sunny day and we were shaded by a giant umbrella. My mother-in-law told Peter that it was one of her favorite days of the trip. She mentioned several times how much she enjoyed the meal and the atmosphere. Then we went to one of our favorite parks for more quality time. Polina ran around and played with a water wheel while my mother-in-law sat at a bench and watched.

Aaahhh… redemption. I felt so much better that she didn’t return home on a down note.

Lessons learned from this experience? Don’t sit by the entry way and put Polina in a high chair. Unintentional mistakes turned to easy fixes for a more enjoyable meal.

Originally written July 24, 2014.