Kids+Romantic Dinner=Disaster!

Romance should never die. If that is your motto, then get ready to hire a nanny when you decide to pop out those things called kids.

Kids can completely and totally suck out whatever little romance is left in your relationship, if age, wrinkles and the hot new neighbour haven’t done it already.

You might still sneak in some romantic action by acting tough and packing your little one to bed sternly under the pretence of getting up early for school, but if you thought that you could ever milk some love out of a romantic dinner, when you decide to take your kids along, then you were gravely mistaken.

Taking your kids for a romantic dinner is the romantic equivalent of an atomic bomb.

If you have kids(small creatures between the age of 2 years to 7 years) then get ready to contend with the following.

You enter a swanky restaurant to celebrate your 10^th wedding anniversary. You’re so happy you made it so far without doing some serious bodily harm to each other. Alongwith you are your two angel children.

The waiter sits you down. You sit down and dump the children next to you. The menu card arrives. Your three year old son, has already begun banging the spoon on the table. You take it away from him. He starts with the fork.

Seeing him your 5 year old daughter tries standing up on the chair and dancing to his thumping tune. Your wife sits her down. You take away your son’s fork. He stares at you for a while like a lost puppy then begins wailing like a wolf on full moon night.

You hastily order the starters. You want to stare into the eyes of your wife on this special day, but she’s busy trying to get your daughter to stop dragging the tablecloth of the table as if it were a woman’s skirt and she were a rapist.

The starters arrive and your son sinks his mucus filled fingers straight into your soup, whilst your daughter has decided to use her pepsi like a waterfall and is busy pouring it on the floor. Your wife lunges for the glass. It falls and breaks. Your daughter starts wailing and the whole restaurant is looking at your table.

The main course arrives. Your son has calmed down. You look across lovingly at your wife only to find her stuffing chicken peices down your daughter’s throat. You sigh and eat your own chicken.

Each time you begin talking about the joys of being in love, your children interrupt with their squealing questions on stupid things like, “What is salt?”, “is water same as waiter?” and “what will santa bring this year?”

Finally dessert arrives and your children get busy with finishing their icecreams. You see an opportunity and you lovingly hold your wife’s hand in yours. You’re just patting her hand and telling her how much you love her when you son, having finished his cup, decides to pick up his fork and stab your hand with it.

You launch into a howl and the waiter immediately comes with the bill and sternly tells you to leave before you drive away his entire business. You pay through sore hands and bundle up your little devils. You fight back emotions of doing real damage to your little ones and go back home, tired, hungry and starved for love.

by Editor Man