This afternoon at Serendipity, while I was waiting for Luca to remove his Spiderman dress-up clothes so we could GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE (more on that later), a woman sitting on the floor with her son and looked up at my torpedo belly and said, “Wow! You look amazing! When are you due?” I smiled and told her “Monday”, leaving out the “I’m scheduled for my elective c-section on Monday morning” bit as I am COMPLETELY over being judged for my choice of birth plan.
“Aw”, she said “that’s amazing! Do you know what you’re having?” “Yes”, I replied, “I’m having another little boy!” She smiled and the next couple of words that came out of her mouth completely BAFFLED me. “Another boy? Ag shame, it doesn’t matter. As long as it’s healthy, right?”
I did a confused giggle, half smiled and then walked away without saying another word.
“Ag shame, another boy?”
Actually lady, I’m OVERJOYED at the fact that I will be adding another beautiful Dadic boy to my already gorgeous family. Does one have to have a “pigeon pair” to be happy? WTF? SERIOUSLY?! I wish I’d punched her in the nose and said, “I’m lucky I am able to have a second child, let alone be fussy about what sex it is!”
That being said, she wasn’t the only painful specimen at our favourite spot this morning. Serendipity was littered with revolting people. I’m not being elitist or anything, as a matter of fact, I think I’m being completely the opposite of elitist. Every second, well-dressed and obviously well-off person at every second table was complaining about the service. About how long the food was taking to come out. About the fact that they didn’t have an umbrella. About the fact that their food wasn’t “up to scratch”. PEOPLE. This is a CHILDREN’S PLAY PLACE. If you want 5 star service and food to match, leave your kids at home and go and have dinner at The Orient in Melrose Arch.
The irony is that the kids who were there with these disgustingly mannered adults were in their element at Serendipity: bouncing around on the trampoline, whizzing down the slides, leaning back, relaxed as a minder pushed them in the tyre-swings. One woman got uptight about the delay in being “served”, marched over to her child who was playing happily in the sandpit, YANKED her out and stormed off. Needless to say, the child was NOT impressed and promptly burst into tears! I mean REALLY.
As Melinda pointed out, they were probably all clock-watching to get to a rugby-watching/lunch-date/something else equally kugel-esque and completely un-child-friendly, and therefore felt the need to take their impatience out on the poor staff at this fantastic venue.
My advice to you lot? GO SOMEWHERE ELSE. Don’t harass the (limited number of) staff who do a phenomenal job of watching your children while you greedily gobble down the food brought to you, only to turn your nose up at it and complain shortly thereafter.
Thoko, Precious, Thabani, Future and co at Serendipity – you all bloody rock!
Anyway, Luca and Emma had a blast. We came home, put on our cozzies, filled the blue shell with water and chilled in our own, quiet front garden and then settled down for a nap.
PS: 2 more sleeps!!!