Kids in Cafes? Why I’ve drawn the line

I have officially had it with kids in cafes. My own kids, that is. At the start of the week, I took them to a cafe that we live nearby to, and gave them stern warnings about good cafe behaviour in advance. This has to be done, because if I don’t warn them, things go really, really wrong. And on that very day, even in spite of all that, everything still went wrong. In hindsight, cutting through the middle man and headed straight to the oasis: kids party venues. Sydney has a few gems, and this one is perfect for  a weary dad like me.

From the second we arrived, everything looked grim. The cafe was packed with people, a huge group of cyclists where we’d normally sit outside and to the rafters full indoors. We were going to head back out when a waiter shooed us to a table smack bang in the center of the dining room. Passing by a table, my youngest kid, Lachie elbowed a paper that was resting underneath a guy’s teacup, so naturally it smashed to the ground into microscopic fragments.

As soon as we sat down, my eldest, Mitch, decided it would be a great trick to get Lachie to sniff pepper.

The third and final straw happened even before our order had been taken. I was  leaning over, trying to talk Mitch into being sensible when the table we were seated jack-knifed and tipped, sending everything on it to the ground as well. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was my limit.

Marching the kids outside, I couldn’t think of anything else to save us – but then I remembered that the kids favourite  indoor play centre in Sydney where they can go completely wild. And I can refuel on coffee and cake. Instead of losing my mind, I put the kids back in the car and crisis averted, made a beeline for the nearest indoor play centre.