Gunfight at the Golden Corral

I'm a crotchety old man.  Have been for around 20 years.  I'm lying, it's more like 30 years.  Something I've never been, though, is an unruly child in public.  (As an adult, I've created scenes, both intentionally and not.  Get over it.)

Lori told me today about a restaurant in Pittsburgh that has banned children under the age of six following 'numerous' complaints about the unruly little ratfink fussbuckets screaming and upsetting an otherwise enjoyable dining experience.  I'm sure they were also standing on chairs, annoying nearby diners by flinging food and crayons, walking around, refusing to sit up, crawling on the floors, flinging more crayons, and generally behaving in a rather pro-contraceptive manner.  Some people are offended.

I say 'Right on, restaurant'. 

Lori and I have restaurants we avoid because they attract unsavory elements (see paragraph two, above.)  Would I be more likely to patronize a restaurant, knowing that I won't have to endure crying, yelling, staring, annoying little weasels?  Of course I would.  One of our local restaurants has a 'kid corner', a section of the restaurant where they seat families exclusively, to keep them away from the beer-drinkin', good-time-havin' crowd.  Which was great until, on a busy Friday night, we were seated in kid corner.  My normal easy-going nature was severely cramped.

(Shut up.  You know the NFG has an easy-going nature.)

As a public service then, I'd like to offer readers of the ol' CDS (all three of you) the NFG Worldwide Solution to avoid screaming kiddoes interrupting your well-aged Porterhouse or chicken Caesar salad.  First, get rid of the kids' menu, with its chicken nuggets and mac'n'cheez.  Lose the crayons.  Better yet, let's adopt the tried and true bowling alley method of my youth, one appreciated by drunken keglers everywhere:  on-site daycare.

My grocery store has a kiddie corral, too.  You have no idea how peaceful it is to shop without toddlers darting in and out of my legs.  I like to imagine, too, that some of the parents don't even NEED groceries, they just use the free service to get a break.

So why not introduce such a solution at fine restaurants everywhere?  Pack your kid a sandwich (no peanut butter, never know who's allergic), check them at the door, claim them once you've enjoyed your veal picatta or trout meuniere, and everyone's happy.

And if your kids are well-mannered little quietmonkeys, good for you for teaching your children how to behave in public.  You should treat yourself to a nice dinner.

Next hurdle?  How do we get airlines to follow the trend?


* For those of you who think I'm being a hard-ass, let me reiterate that I don't indiscriminately dislike children.  Children are a joy, and I love my daughters, grandson and nieces very much.  However, they have been (or will be, in the case of the wee ones) taught their manners.  Enough said.