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| Blazer, Tank: The Loft. Boyfriend Crops: Gap. Shoes: Ross. Stache Necklace: c/o Little Miss Momma. |
We have an unhealthy obsession with the Spaghetti Factory. We, meaning me, Mr. and the littles. Given the choice, we’d probably eat there every night. I love me some pasta. But alas, eating out with 5 people is mucho expensive, and my thighs wouldn’t thank me for all those carbs. Saturday night, however, we indulged ourselves. It really was too late by the time we finished our afternoon hike to take everyone out to eat, but what can I say, we like to live on the wild side. We should have known better.
Friends, it was not our night at the factory.
Shall I elaborate? Alright, here goes.
When we first arrived we waited a mere 5 minutes for a table. 5 minutes on a Saturday night?! We were so lucky. Then they led us over to a fabulous booth right in the middle of the restaurant, in plain view of the caboose, which is of course a must for the littles. Lucky again. Or so I thought. As soon as we go to sit down Miss Hannah informs me that she needed a restroom, like pronto. So, without even sitting down I ask both boys if either of them need to go potty (no they don’t need to) and then tell the Mr. to order me a Cherry Italian cream soda, and a water with a lemon. Then we exit the table, mount the stairs, take the hallway and make it to the bathroom. When I get back, drinks have arrived and so has the appetizer, but the boys inform me that they do, in fact, need to go potty after all. So, without sitting again, back up the stairs down the hall and into the bathroom we go, where Carter proceeds to do one of his 20 minute #2 sessions in the bathroom. This has become little man’s ritual of choice lately, a nice long potty break in the public bathroom. (The Costco bathroom is apparently his favorite.)
When we (finally) get back to the table Mr. husband has already downed his entire Italian cream soda. I take a quick look at the menu, cause Miss waitress is waiting to take our order, and pick the crab ravioli. Once she leaves, I take a sip of my cream soda. And it’s all wrong. I look at it. It’s a raspberry cream soda. I ask Mr. if he drank mine and he says, “No, mine was a Raspberry too.” I tell him to take a sip and make sure, cause Mr.’s can’t really distinguish between Cherry and Raspberry, 95% of the time. He takes a sip, and whoops, he drank mine. I tell him to just take the other one, cause I’m not a fan of Raspberry cream sodas. He tells me he’ll order me another. So the waitress comes over and he orders me another Cherry saying, “She was really thirsty.” The waitress gives me a look and leaves the table again. Thanks, hun. Now I look like I’m gorging myself on cream soda. So classy.
I couldn’t really be too mad, though cause a minute later, the salads are delivered, and by this point I’m starving. I fill my fork up and take my first bite.
And the kid in the booth right next to us pukes all over the floor.
And he must have had something hefty for dinner, cause, like whoa. Gross.
Vomit splattered all the way up to our booth, and the smell, it was permeating our table. Guys, I’ve been pregnant thrice and I was sick for a lovely 4 months on all of them, so lets just say that the smell of vomit really gets to me. I look at Mr., my fork still filled with my second bit of salad, and say, “I don’t think I can eat like this.” I’m trying not to inhale cause that will result in dry heaves.
And then the food guy shows up with our entire tray of pasta. Really? Right now. After the vomit?
I look at husband, he looks at me, we both look at the hostess who happens to be walking by and say, “excuse me, can we please be moved?” She looks at us like we are nuts, but starts helping us gather our plates, drinks and 3 kids to move to a spot across the restaurant. We sit down, finish our salads, kids get to chowing on their meals, and I finally get my Cherry cream soda. The table next to us which has approximately 35 teenage girls sitting at it, begins singing/screaming “Happy Birthday to you” at the top of their lungs. It’s okay, it’s okay, I tell myself. They finish. I pick up my fork, take my first bite of that fabulously decadent and delicious crab ravioli with a pesto alfredo sauce,
and the fire alarm goes off.
I look at husband, he looks at me. Are you kidding me? We get the kids, my purse and our cream sodas, and evacuate with the rest of patrons. We stand out side for 1/2 an hour taking pictures and quoting the office episode where Ryan starts a fire. The fire department shows up, confirms that there was in fact, no fire and we are herded back inside to finish our meal. My pasta is now completely cold, but I eat it anyways because by this point it’s 9:30 and we have got to get the kids home to bed. Then the teenage girls next to us and the girls soccer team get into a happy birthday screaming/singing war. What is this a football game?
We get our spumoni, and the waitress brings the check. Then she starts taking our salt and sauces off the table, cause apparently she wants to go home. She walks around the chair, drops the hot sauce off her tray, it shatters and splatters on the floor, and all over my pants and shoes. She just walks off, no apology or napkin for me.
I look at Mr., he looks at me, “We should have grabbed a pizza.”
So for the low price of $75 dollars we got:
vomit,
a fire alarm,
cold food,
a shouting match
and hot sauce splattered all over my clothes.
I don’t know about you, but I think we got a deal.
We might not have had the best night at the Spaghetti Factory, but we’re healthy, happy and fed.
And I will never forget that dinner.
Sometimes, life is just happens like that.
I love it all.
Oh geez! That is crazy! Was it downtown or the Southcenter one? We have had 2 wackadoodle dinners at the southcenter one… must attract the craziness if that is where you were, too.
LOVE your blog re-do!
Andrea, It was the Southcenter one! Maybe it’s cursed…
Woah what a night! I would have been super upset with hot sauce all over me! I love that restaurant it has been a long time though since i went! love your blog and am a follower ♥
http://www.thetootsiewootsie.com
Oh dear, what a night! It reminds me of when my husband and I were at a restaurant eating pizza with his mother and our twin nephews (15 months) and their sister (2,5 years). When we came to the restaurant the boys food needed to be heated and they needed to be fed which I took care of. Then they didn’t want to sit in their high chairs anymore and I took one on my lap, my mother-in-law the other one when suddenly my lap started to feel warm so I rushed to the restroom with him to change his diapers. When I was done, my mother-in-law came, the other twin had leaked on her lap :) and I changed him as well. When I was at the table again our pizza had arrived and with one boy on my lap I couldn’t cut it so I asked husband to cut mine and I ate the pizza so fast like never before whilst trying to entertain the twins. :) What a night! I guess we are ready for our kids to come.
Your fan,
Senja
haha what an eventful night – sounds like dinner theater
love your outfit – i’ve been looking for a jacket lke that
ohhh my goodness. you have such a good attitude. ill admit, i probably would’ve complained about that encounter.
love the new blog look! :)
I have to say that I really appreciate that you were still optimistic and grateful!
This is my favorite line “I look at husband, he looks at me. Are you kidding me?” WE have so many of those moments here…..all you can do sometimes is laugh right?!
Whoa!! No one even offered you some type of discount for an evening like that?! I can’t believe it! (I think the vomit would have ended the evening for me…I draw the line at public spewage.)
This post had it all LOL my favorite was your use of the word “thrice”
Oh my heck! Sounds like a great evening! At least your new blog design looks fabulous!!!
Yikes — between the vomit, fire alarm, cold food, and the waitress spilling hot sauce on you, they should have offered to comp your meal! But yeah, you will look back on that night and laugh :)
Cute blazer — I need to get some blazers in my closet!!
oh my gosh, that’s horrible. LOL. but at least you can hopefully laugh about it now?
love the new layout! i also want your outfit.
that is all.
Thanks you for having a real life! I am very familiar with the “Murphy” moments that seem to be everyday occurrences for me.
Much gratitude extended your way for introducing me to Loft. I found many great items to add to my teacher wardrobe that also fit my personality and style of dress. Welcome to the west (“wet”) coast lifestyle! I hope you find great adventures at this end of the continent!
canada
As a waitress myself, I really sincerely hope you mentioned this to the management. At my restaurant, someone throwing up would qualify the surrounding tables to receive a discount on their check. A server splashing things on your clothing? Free meal and dry cleaning. The fire alarm? Free dessert. Although most of it was no fault of the restaurant itself, they should go out of their way to make sure their customers enjoy their experience. <3
Girl, please promise me that if something like this ever happens again that you will NOT pay for it! I totally would have had my Mr talking to the manager (because I’m too chicken myself-ha!).
I love the new design, btw! Clean, pretty, elegant. Nice job. :)
Cori, I love your new blog design!!! Super cute and you look great AS ALWAYS!!!! I;M over the moon excited about my skirts:)
Wow, that was insane. I’m with everyone who thinks you guys deserved a break on the check!
Oh MY WORD! They didn’t comp your meal? That is ridiculous!!!