Wednesday, May 9, 2012


First, before I delve into the relationship between babies and brunch, I want to share an important revelation/discovery -- there are people, urban adult people, who do not care about brunch. God bless these people. I was telling a new friend about my brunch blog and she was genuinely confused that a brunch culture exists. "I don't think I've ever gone out to brunch," she claimed. I was wary. But then when she asked what kind of food is on brunch menus, I began to believe her. I wish she and her kind would procreate and then NOT bring their offspring to restaurants serving brunch. Because if there's one thing you can predict about brunch beyond extravagantly priced eggs and hungover servers who haven't showered, it's babies. Lots and lots of babies. Some of which will be crying nonstop. 

Where I work, we always have a betting pool concerning how many babies will be present at brunch. It's Price Is Right rules -- closest without going over. And we're very strict about the definition of a baby. To qualify, the child
  • must not enter the restaurant on its own -- it must come in via stroller or in the arms of an adult.
  • must not sit in a normal chair -- highchair or stroller is fine
  • must not be able to speak in full sentences or be able to order for him/herself
  • must not be able to drink out of a normal water glass
  • must not be able to hold normal utensils and feed him/herself
  • must not still be in utero, i.e. pregnant women don't count

On major brunch days like Easter and Mother's Day, everyone bets in the double digits. And suddenly, instead of a nice, white-tablecloth $$$ establishment, we become about as classy as Denny's.

The thing about babies is -- they're so messy. They shred things, they throw food. I'm always stuck vacuuming up Cheerios from the carpet after brunch. And the parents are always annoyed that we don't have a kids' menu. It's not like we ever claimed to -- maybe you should have called or looked on our website before bringing in your toddler who only eats chocolate-chip pancakes?  Just sayin'.

This Sunday is Mother's Day. And there's no better way to celebrate your motherhood by taking your spawn out for a meal he/she can't even really chew.  I've looked at the reservations and I'm feeling like my magic number might be 14. 14 babies during a 3.5 hour shift.

Bring it on, babies. LET'S DO THIS.   

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