I attend a trade show in Orlando yearly in January. My family resides in Ohio, so this January I decided it would be great to bring them down as I concluded my three days of meetings. It would offer a great opportunity for my husband, my 8 year old son and I, to see the sunshine, (a rarity in OH in January) and spend quality time together.
They night they came in, we struggled to find a restaurant which wasn’t crowded from the heavy traffic of one of the largest trade shows in Orlando. We picked the first restaurant we came to on the very crowded strip. The lobby was packed with people waiting for tables, and we learned the wait was 2 hours (by this point it was nearly 8pm). My husband and I discussed leaving to find a less crowded restaurant, just as a server walked out with a silver tray packed high with meatballs to pass out to the diners in waiting. My 8 year old stated “Mom, they’re passing out meatballs. WHY would we leave a restaurant which passes out meatballs?” Reluctantly we stayed, not wanting to take the risk involved with upsetting a tired and hungry 8 year old boy.
I certainly couldn’t wait 2 hours without a glass of good wine (honestly, I thought 2 hours was an exaggeration), so we headed (with son in tow) to the bar. As I step up to the bar to order my wine, I see two men I had worked with earlier that day from one of my largest accounts. I introduced them to my family, after which they graciously bought each of us a drink and offered their calamari. Looks like I’m balancing career and family beautifully at this point. OK, so my son is in a bar on a Thursday night at 9pm, but hey – here comes silver plate number two of meatballs (I think my son has had six or seven at this point) – and although the fatigue is visibly growing by the moment, at least the hunger is subsiding. My customers offered to join tables for dinner – as they were about 30 minutes ahead of us in the waiting table game. Initially, my husband and I declined, not wanting to intrude on their night out (especially considering they were out, as most in this restaurant were, without their own families). But it was getting late, and 30 minutes could make a huge difference at this point. We accepted.
About 2 ½ hours from the time we walked in, the five of us sat down in a huge booth. I think my son (who was incredibly patient) had eaten 12 meatballs by now. Very shortly after we ordered our dinners and uncorked a fabulous bottle of red, he laid his head on my lap and fell fast asleep. While he slept soundlessly, my husband and I enjoyed adult conversation, great Italian food and wine with my customers. All is good in the balancing game. About 30 minutes after he had fallen asleep, I noticed that my son’s feet were on top of one of my customer’s laps. I apologized, he said “Kathy, don’t worry about it”, and I insisted on moving my son’s long legs out of his lap. As I attempted to move his 55” 65 lb body, I knocked over a large glass of ice water, which artfully toppled on the table, as the water poured all over my sleeping son’s head. He sat up quickly, screamed, and lay back down on my lap. So much for the perfect “balance” of family and career……….
This woman should be reported to children services! ha ha
leslie, March 7 2007