To those of you claim that dining out with a small child is no big deal

I submit this afternoon's scenario for your consideration:

Yes, it was technically afternoon because we went to the "family-style" restaurant at 4:45 to avoid annoying the maximum amount of diners.

When the chocolate milk arrives 20 minutes before the food you've set yourself up for what I will call the Super Hyper Mama Mama Jump game. This is where Liam bounds upwards of two feet off the booth seat, tries to climb the blinds, yells "Mama Mama!" and ends up initiating a race to get the check, the take away boxes for Mama and Daddy's uneaten meals and stuff the kid into his jacket to we can swiftly walk to the car, all the while receiving knowing looks of pity and quite a few of gratitude.

We may have a wild child but at least we are considerate parents and don't subject you all to his antics. For that, we pat ourselves on the back and will later eat the congealed remains of our burgers and Liam's cookies that he did not get for being a good boy and eating his dinner.