Dear Restaurant That Usually Has Crayons But Then Didn’t That One Time,

Hey.  Hi.  Howdy.

Can we chat?  I have a bone to pick with you.

Look, I know it’s technically a parent’s job to come fully prepared for the next apocalypse.  Our diaper bags and purses and satchels are expected to be stuffed to their brims with the following: boogie wipes, extra change of clothes, extra diapers or underpants, boogie wipes, butt wipes, changing pad, a book for the kiddo, a book for us, pacifiers, snacks, lunch, more snacks, lovey, blankie, did I mention more snacks?, and somehow we’re supposed to fit a phone, keys and wallet in there too.  In a reachable place.  And heaven and earth forbid that we forget one of those things in public.  There is no sight more wretched than that of a parent rummaging frantically through a diaper bag, unable to find the holy grail that’s sought, mumbling with ever-increasing panic, “We might have left it at home.”

I know it’s not your job as a food establishment to cater to my child’s every need.  I know!  But hear me out.  Going out to eat with even the most cherubic, well-behaved child is a recipe for a headache.  Children!  They’re messy and impatient at their best, and their worst…well.  Think of it as the second tier down from being trapped on an airplane with a restless child.  Granted, if we leave this establishment we’re not falling to our terrifying deaths, but leaving brunch before brunch arrives at the table when you’re a tired parent is preeeeeeeetty close.  If my egg bennies are that close, I’m going to wait and eat them, so help me god.

This is where those crayons come in.

Every other time we’ve gone to your restaurant, darling brunch establishment, you had crayons.  So when we were thinking of where to go for brunch this time, we were ready.  We will go to the reliable darling crayon place where our child will be happily entertained, we thought.  We were proud.  We knew the best brunch place for parents and we were going.  Bright young planners, that’s us!  So imagine our shock and horror when we got there and no crayons appeared.

We hadn’t planned for this.  We planned on brunch, with crayons, and knowing they would be there, made the fatal error of not packing them in the apocalypse bag.

Just then, our daughter squealed and grabbed a straw from one of our waters.  It all happened so fast.

And that is why, dear darling brunch place, I blame your sudden devastating lack of crayons for the fact that my daughter now knows the fun of tweeting a straw wrapper off of the straw at other people.  We’ve created a monster.  Or rather, you’ve created a monster.  We tried to hide this straw activity from her for so long, placating her with other more benign brunch activities.  But now, it’s all over.  Brunch will never be the same.  Our cherubic brunching baby has turned into (cue the doomy music) a brunching toddler with a will of her own who will not be sated by crayons ever again.  This is, again, obviously your fault and definitely not the fault of time passing, of a child growing up, of a parent not being prepared…ahem.

Send help.

And can you also please send over some more straws with those mimosas?

Thaaaaanks.

Love,

Hayley