31. Kids eat free
Once upon a time, some years ago, when our children were little and cute we were settling in a new part of the world, keen to make the most of our weekends as a family.
I was sitting at the breakfast table reading the local newspaper when an advert caught my eye.
First class food! Acrobats show! Animals! Kids activities!
Come and join us! Kids eat free!
That sounded good and I pointed it to my husband. He said:
'Why not? But better to give them a ring. We've got 4!'
He dialled the number.
'Yes! No problem! ... Four kids? ... Good! Very good Sir! Yes! Yes! Kids food is free. ... Today? Good! No problem.'
'All set! We'll check that place out!'
The setting was wonderful! The restaurant and the park stood in an old fort complete with surrounding mud walls high up on a hill. All around desert stretching all the way towards the horizon. It was hot but a light breeze was blowing because we were higher up and being early morning it was pleasant.
As we approached the dining area and entered the gardens, we could see flowerbeds and green lawns surrounding a stone patio. The kids could not resist the lawns, took off their shoes and started running around chasing each other.
I let my husband deal with the crazy supervision of three kids running in three opposite directions and headed off to check our booking.
Inside it was cool and spacious. We were early and the place was quiet. I settled the baby in a high chair and relaxed. Seconds later a glass of wine appeared out of nowhere. This had been a good idea of mine.
The rest of the family soon joined me. The place was getting busy. The advert in the local paper had had a real impact. Families very similar to ours kept coming in: couples with a lot of kids.
The eating area was a long wide room with the food along the back wall. At one end the doors to the kitchens and at the other end a curtained entrance to a wide area covered in rugs and heaps of cushions.
Needless to say all these kids gravitated unnoticed towards this area.
We briefly wondered if the area was out of bounds. But no more no less than all the other parents. We were all so happy to be able to truly relax for a while. We were all busy congratulating each other on the truly excellent choice of venue for a weekend lunch.
After a while we began to wonder: our initially starving hungry kids were not coming for food. The noise behind the curtains seemed to be getting louder even to our relaxed and slightly boozy parental ears. All the adults started looking around and looking at each other.
A few of us reluctantly got up and went to the curtained entrance.
We sobered up on the spot! Dozens of little kids running around, picking up cushions and throwing them at each other, jumping up and down, screaming and shouting and amongst them, if one looked hard enough, half a dozen young men, dressed in black tights and black singlets. Some had kids on their backs, other had kids swinging at their hips, others had kids dragging them by the hands, kids shouting in their ears ... It was a scene of utter and total chaos!
It only took a couple of seconds for all the parents to realise that these men were supposed to put on the advertised show. And that the children were preventing them from doing so.
We just stood there, in shock, wondering what to do. The noise, the music, the sheer number of kids, the athletes ... Maybe that was part of the show? Interactive? Involving kids?
We knew though. We exchanged embarrassed and enquiring looks. Our offsprings were making the show impossible. We saw waiters and room managers hovering around obviously wondering what to do, not daring to tell the clients that they should get a grip on their kids.
'You need to do something!' I said to my husband.
He nodded and did that thing with his mouth, then a two-second pause then ... I jumped out of my skin!
'OI! ... You lot! Come here! Right now this instant!'
The whole room went quiet, everyone froze instantly. Our 4 rushed to their father. Couples gathered their broods. The acrobats looked relieved.
Five minutes later the curtains were drawn on the mess made of the room and all the kids were sitting pretty on the floor watching the show. Then we had heaps of food, kids stuffed their faces with chocolate fondue and all sorts of cakes. We took them home for a nap.
That was the grand opening of the season. Two weeks later the place closed down. To this day I feel a pang of guilt.
I was sitting at the breakfast table reading the local newspaper when an advert caught my eye.
First class food! Acrobats show! Animals! Kids activities!
Come and join us! Kids eat free!
That sounded good and I pointed it to my husband. He said:
'Why not? But better to give them a ring. We've got 4!'
He dialled the number.
'Yes! No problem! ... Four kids? ... Good! Very good Sir! Yes! Yes! Kids food is free. ... Today? Good! No problem.'
'All set! We'll check that place out!'
The setting was wonderful! The restaurant and the park stood in an old fort complete with surrounding mud walls high up on a hill. All around desert stretching all the way towards the horizon. It was hot but a light breeze was blowing because we were higher up and being early morning it was pleasant.
As we approached the dining area and entered the gardens, we could see flowerbeds and green lawns surrounding a stone patio. The kids could not resist the lawns, took off their shoes and started running around chasing each other.
I let my husband deal with the crazy supervision of three kids running in three opposite directions and headed off to check our booking.
Inside it was cool and spacious. We were early and the place was quiet. I settled the baby in a high chair and relaxed. Seconds later a glass of wine appeared out of nowhere. This had been a good idea of mine.
The rest of the family soon joined me. The place was getting busy. The advert in the local paper had had a real impact. Families very similar to ours kept coming in: couples with a lot of kids.
The eating area was a long wide room with the food along the back wall. At one end the doors to the kitchens and at the other end a curtained entrance to a wide area covered in rugs and heaps of cushions.
Needless to say all these kids gravitated unnoticed towards this area.
We briefly wondered if the area was out of bounds. But no more no less than all the other parents. We were all so happy to be able to truly relax for a while. We were all busy congratulating each other on the truly excellent choice of venue for a weekend lunch.
After a while we began to wonder: our initially starving hungry kids were not coming for food. The noise behind the curtains seemed to be getting louder even to our relaxed and slightly boozy parental ears. All the adults started looking around and looking at each other.
A few of us reluctantly got up and went to the curtained entrance.
We sobered up on the spot! Dozens of little kids running around, picking up cushions and throwing them at each other, jumping up and down, screaming and shouting and amongst them, if one looked hard enough, half a dozen young men, dressed in black tights and black singlets. Some had kids on their backs, other had kids swinging at their hips, others had kids dragging them by the hands, kids shouting in their ears ... It was a scene of utter and total chaos!
It only took a couple of seconds for all the parents to realise that these men were supposed to put on the advertised show. And that the children were preventing them from doing so.
We just stood there, in shock, wondering what to do. The noise, the music, the sheer number of kids, the athletes ... Maybe that was part of the show? Interactive? Involving kids?
We knew though. We exchanged embarrassed and enquiring looks. Our offsprings were making the show impossible. We saw waiters and room managers hovering around obviously wondering what to do, not daring to tell the clients that they should get a grip on their kids.
'You need to do something!' I said to my husband.
He nodded and did that thing with his mouth, then a two-second pause then ... I jumped out of my skin!
'OI! ... You lot! Come here! Right now this instant!'
The whole room went quiet, everyone froze instantly. Our 4 rushed to their father. Couples gathered their broods. The acrobats looked relieved.
Five minutes later the curtains were drawn on the mess made of the room and all the kids were sitting pretty on the floor watching the show. Then we had heaps of food, kids stuffed their faces with chocolate fondue and all sorts of cakes. We took them home for a nap.
That was the grand opening of the season. Two weeks later the place closed down. To this day I feel a pang of guilt.
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