If there's one thing Curtis and I love to do, it's go out to eat. Unfortunately, the more kids we have - and the older they get - the more difficult it becomes. Not only because they're beyond the age of sleeping quietly in their carriers while we eat in peace, but because now they're starting to eat a little more. And it's a crappy middle-of-the-road amount: they eat too much to share ('cause I'm stingy with my food, y'all), but not enough to warrant their own order. Still, for Colin at least, we (grudgingly) get him a separate meal. Which means it's more expensive - cha-ching! Kids' meals may be cheaper than their adult counterparts, but I still hate paying $5 for him to dismantle his cheeseburger and eat three fries.Not too long ago, we went to a lunch buffet at a local restaurant. As we stood in line to pay, we scrutinized the big sign hanging over the cash register. "Kids 4 and up - $4.99," it said, and then in huge screaming letters: "KIDS 3 AND UNDER EAT FREE!"
I saw the look on Curtis's face even before his eyes met mine, and I knew exactly what he was thinking. Colin's only been four for two months, and everyone always thinks he's younger anyway because he's not all that big. Plus he eats like a bird ... hardly worth the $5 we'd pay for his buffet. My inner "good girl" (yes, she exists) cringed at the thought of lying to the restaurant peeps, but my inner tightwad quickly silenced her. So I just looked casually away, pretending to be otherwise occupied, when the cashier asked Curtis how old Colin was.
"Almost four," Curtis lied through his teeth. I was desperately hoping Colin wouldn't hear, because I just knew he'd dispute that statement. Loudly.
Sure enough, before the girl could even push a button on the register, Colin piped up helpfully: "But I'm already four!"
Curtis gave a tight-lipped smile and sort of pushed Colin behind him - but taking subtle hints obviously isn't Colin's strong suit. "Daddy, I'm already four!" he shrieked, in case the cooks back in the kitchen hadn't heard.
"Okay, son," Curtis mumbled and laughed nervously, glancing at the cashier with a contrived "I'm-just-appeasing-my-kid" look.
"BUT I'M ALREADY FOUR!!!!" Colin's high-pitched whine rose above the crowd and hung there in the air. At this point, the situation was unbelievably awkward. Curtis was trying his best to be nonchalant and stick to his story, despite feeling like a total idiot; I was trying my best not to laugh; and Colin was still insisting at the top of his lungs - to anyone within a three-mile radius - that Daddy had gotten his age wrong.
The girl finished ringing up our meal ticket and when we got to the table, we looked at it and saw that she had let him slide with the three-year-old rate - even though it had been pitifully, painfully obvious, at least in our perception, that we were straight-up lying. We felt so bad at that point that we ended up leaving a tip that was equivalent to what we would've paid for his meal - especially since, much to our surprise, Colin ended up eating like a grown man anyway. And we felt even worse thinking about what kind of an example we'd set for our son ... but we hadn't intended him to hear. We were just trying to save a little money! We're in a recession, damn it!
Like all stories worth reading, this one comes with a moral: don't try to short-change somebody, 'cause you'll pay extra for it in the end.
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