When Jaclyn asked if we could go out for Japanese Hibachi food tonight, I was quick to answer “Yes,” assuming right up to the moment we pulled up to the restaurant that we were talking an “Express Hibachi” place. I should’ve known better.
This was going to be quite an experience for Miles, and it was going to go one of two ways. I felt the odds were woefully stacked against us, starting with the fact that we were going to be sharing a table with several strangers. And yes, Miles was a bit loopy and disagreeable, but playful enough that everyone at the table at least tolerated his presence and, at most, really got into it.
When it came time to order food, of course Miles had all sorts of requests that could not conceivably be fulfilled at a Japanese steakhouse. I ordered chicken, and Miles ultimately chose steak, which was unfortunate because I didn’t particularly want steak but knew that I would now be eating a steak dinner.
“Tell him I want the big one!” Miles said, ad nauseam, as the cook arrived at our table and began his work. “HE HEARD YOU,” I replied. “EVERYONE HAS HEARD YOU, MILES.”
Fortunately this happened soon and it shut him up:
As food was divvied out, Miles of course insisted that HE wanted chicken and I had to start giving him bites of my food. By the third or fourth however, he at least had the decency to ask, “May I?” (full disclosure: I have no idea where he picked that phrase up, but everyone at the table thought it was hilarious).
Speaking of hilarity, one of our tablemates jokingly mentioned that it was Miles’s birthday. As we got up to use the restroom after our meal, Miles was suddenly flummoxed when the staff members came out to sing to him.
I can’t say how this dinner ultimately ranks for Miles in terms of food (he did seem to like the chicken quite a bit…), but I think I can safely say it was the weirdest restaurant experience he’s ever had.
The Perils (& Pride) of Paternity 