I know it was only one day of nice weather, but I'm sure it was the first of many and so I feel completely justified packing away the family's winter clothes and forcing my husband and baby to wear nothing but shorts and sandals all weekend, even through the torrential down pour and thunder storm. Anyway, the way I see it, every event needs to be marked with some type of celebration, and in my family we celebrate with food (the reason I still don't fit into my skinny jeans), and what better food to commemorate the start of warmth than burgers.
Being post baby chubby (I have promoted myself from 'gargantuan', to 'obese', to 'fat', and now 'chubby') greasy burgers are not my first meal choice, however, I felt it was needed in this case. I just had to mouth the word burgers to my husband and before I had a chance to run a brush through my hair the baby was strapped in the car and we were on our way to APACHE BURGER. And when I say I barely had a chance to brush my hair I am not exaggerating, let's take a moment to review my physical appearance on this particular outing before I move onto the restaurant review. I had just got out of the shower, and since my husband equates showered and teeth brushed with being ready to leave the house, that's really all I had time to do. My hair was sopping wet and in a messy bun on the top of head, I had on a shirt covered in baby vomit stains with an old cardigan thrown over top, a cardigan with belt loops but of course no belt. Jeans that I have to keep up with an over sized belt, they were my fat jeans to wear right after the baby but since I don't fit into my pre-baby jeans yet, I'm just walking through the city looking very sleek and stylish in jeans that are too big and buckling at the waist, I call it 'potato-sack chic'. I did not have any make up on, and my 'mask of pregnancy' that all the books said would go away once the baby was out has decided to take up permanent residency on my upper lip and chin, so basically I looked like a dirty homeless person!!! ...Okay, onto the restaurant.
As soon as we get there the first thing I ask is if they have a high chair, I know my husband would have killed me, but there was no way in hell I was going to pay for someone to make me dinner, just to have to eat it while trying to stop a 20 pound garbage disposal from trying to dive mouth first into my plate. The very sweet cashier said yes, then turned to the burly man dishing out the burgers and asked him to get the chair, he looked at the entire line up in disgust and asked her who it was for. She pointed to me and the baby, he looked us up and down, contorted his face and muttered something under his breath, spit on the ground, then shuffled into the back...okay maybe he didn't spit, I added it for dramatic effect, as I was saying, he shuffled into the back, about ten minutes later came out with a high chair, put it over the counter and turned away. I don't know where he got the chair from, but let's just say I 'purelled' the hell out of it.
As soon as we sat down and waited for my husband to bring the food I smelled the all to familiar stench of death and rotting souls, otherwise known as the baby's poopy diaper. I grabbed the necessary supplies from the bag, diaper, wipes, lotion, gas mask, holy water...the usual, and headed to the lavatories. Having lived most of my adult life in quite a nice and shiny bubble in which the entire world revolved around me, this obviously continued after having the baby. So you could imagine my surprise when I opened the washroom door to find only a toilet, sink, and paper towel dispenser, where was the change table? even a counter top I could use? How could they do this to me? That's right, strike two, attitude during high chair retrieval, then no change table. I had to change her in the back seat of the car, not fun, reclined seat, wet poo, car parked too close beside so afraid to hit them with door, NOT FUN!
After that things were pretty uneventful, got food, burger okay, husband thought it was best he ever had, great onion rings (I know what you're thinking but I didn't even have cheese on my burger and I got a DIET coke, so yeah, I ate Onion Rings, get over it).
I am not a fence sitter, I like to make firm decisions, so even though APACHE really only messed up on the change table situation, I'm going to have to declare them.....an ENEMY! I don't appreciate being made to feel like I'm putting someone out when I ask for a chair for my baby, and bottom line, their food is too fattening and I want to fit into my skinny jeans by the summer.
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