Fat Lip Friday

Frankie gave me a fat lip on Friday.

It was really sexy.

She never really apologized but, don't worry, I soothed the pain with a bunch of brownie batter.

Fridays are my day with Frankie. I don't go to work. I work from home if necessary, but for the most part Frankie and I spend the day together. We shop, we run errands, we meet up with friends for lunch, we play. It's always a fun day.

This past Friday we had plans to go to lunch for my cousin Shelly's birthday. Shelly and I are very close so I had been looking forward to it for awhile. My mom, Shelly's mom, and my other cousin, Carol, all went and everyone loves Frankie so I knew it was going to be a fun lunch. Frankie goes out for lunch and dinner quite a bit so I had no doubt she'd be awesome at the restaurant. I was half right.

Frankie was in no mood for a nap that morning, but I wasn't really worried because there are lots of times when she doesn't feel like taking her morning nap and she is totally fine. Not long before we left, we were in my bathroom so I could get dressed but when I placed my hairbrush on the vanity, Frankie decided she wanted it. Since there was no time to play with the brush, I took it away and put it in a drawer --Frankie went cuckoo bananas. I contemplated calling an exorcist while I stood there waiting for her head to spin around. I had no idea why taking the brush away would set her off so much. I wanted no part it though and I sincerely hoped she wasn't looking for me to engage. It's a hair brush. I gave her a look that could only be translated to "you're a total freak" before scooping her up, telling her to "get over it," and putting her in the car for our lunch.

As I loaded Little Ms. Meltdown into the car, I mentally went to a place in my head where I store a list of things I need for Frankie on our trips away from home. I like to refer to this list as "Frankie's Crap." While I went through my list, Frankie was happily jamming to Kenny Chesney in the back seat. It seemed the "Hairbrush Incident of 2008" was forgotten.

We got to lunch and everything seemed fine. Frankie and I were the first to arrive so we were the first to learn that we were awarded the same waiter I had just a few days earlier when I was there with my new friend and pediatrician extraordinaire, Molly. Does this matter? Yes. Why? As I'm sure Molly would agree, he is quite the hottie. While my mom and the rest of the party showed up, Frankie was laughing and having a great time. When our waiter approached the table and she got a good look at him, she forgot about us and quickly moved on to shamelessly hitting on him. She even tried to take his apron off! (Jeez, Frankie...get a room... or join a Sorority).

I don't know if it was because she didn't get her nap, my hair brush, or if it was because our waiter told her she was a little young for him, but all of the sudden she went Sybil on me and started to turn...fast. She didn't want anymore of the food I brought for her or the food at the table; she didn't want the warm bread in the basket or the glass of water I offered her. My mom took her for a outside for walk to get her out of the restaurant, but when they came back FJ had to go back in the high chair and she clearly had reservations about that. This anticipated fun and relaxing lunch was quickly becoming slightly stressful. Frankie was squirming around in her high chair and I thought she was going to fall out of it so I decided it was my turn to take her for a little walk. I picked her up and (SHOCKER) she said "Down." (What else is new?) Ok, fine--I'll let you walk.

She did her "drunken sailer" walk through the restaurant, through the bar area, and through the tables that lead to the outdoor tables. I caught up with her outside only to find her stopped at a table of three men. She smiled at one of the guys and threw out one of her Frankie "Hi-eee's." The guy scooped her up after he asked me if it was OK and she stared at him for approximately 3 seconds before she proceeded to go into their bread basket and take a piece of their bread! She didn't want our bread. She must only like bread surrounded by testosterone, I don't know. After she took their bread, she looked at the guy again and exclaimed "Down!"

When we got back to our table, Frankie was not swanky--she was cranky. I put her in my lap to soothe her only to have her head butt me from behind and give me a fat lip. I felt like it was at this point that I throw it the towel. It was time to go home.

I had never had an issue with Frankie at a restaurant before. She was always so well behaved and so much fun and quite honestly, it sort of upset me that she was yucky. I took it personally. She's entitled to an off day, I know, but that didn't make me feel any better since I had really been looking forward to that lunch. I left there feeling exhausted, defeated and humbled by the whole experience.

When we got to the car and I got in the driver's seat, I tried to tell Frankie that it's not nice to give Mommy a fat lip and go bonkers in a restaurant. When I turned to see her reaction, I found her fast asleep (or maybe she was faking it so I would shut up). I'll never know. All I know is that the brownies I brought to The Wallers' house that night sucked probably due to the fact that I ate half the batter before they made it to the oven. It wasn't my fault...I needed to soothe my swelling fat lip and my temporarily bruised ego. Brownie batter is really good for that.