Chapter Text
So Grandpa decides we’re going to a steakhouse for dinner. Why he chose to take the granddaughter who doesn't eat red meat to an expensive restaurant that specializes in red meat, I’m not entirely sure, but there's not really any point in arguing about it. Anyway, we’re sitting in the way back of a steakhouse, because its one of the only tables and Grandpa hates booths, when suddenly his phone goes off. Please don’t imagine how your own phone rings, a subtle vibrate or a cute ring tone, this was a blaring and jarring cacophony of noise loud enough to make everyone around us flinch. He answers it. Right there at the table in the expensive steakhouse he dragged us to for some reason. It should be mentioned here that Grandpa has very bad hearing, and I mean very, very bad hearing, and his hearing aids don’t do much for phone use apparently. Which means, of course, that he’s yelling. Loudly. In a steakhouse. He finishes off his conversation while I hide my face in my hands. Not ten minutes later though, another phone rings at another table. So of course I’m expecting the man to excuse himself to go answer his phone, after all he isn't old, he wouldn't answer his phone at the table in a nice restaurant. He answers it. Right there. At the table. Apparently that's normal in Michigan. Not the yelling though. That's just an old person thing.
Orders have now been placed, Grandpa getting his steak and Grandma some sort of chicken dinner and myself getting chicken strips with mashed potatoes. Just like the six year old a few booths over. As Grandpa continues to read the menu left at our table for reasons unknown and Grandma looks out the window intently searching for squirrels I notice a nice young couple come sit at the booth next to our table, completely unremarkable except for one thing. They brought a baby. I don’t mean a toddler or a child, I mean a baby. Car seat and all. I, of course, am flabbergasted. What the hell are they going to order for a baby in a steakhouse of all places?! As I’m silently panicking about what on Earth they are going to feed this child our food is delivered, and it hits me. Mashed potatoes. They will feed the baby mashed potatoes. I accept this and move on. After all it makes perfect sense.
That is a lie. That does not make sense. I have no idea why I thought it did. They brought a bottle and baby food, which does make sense. The meal passed peacefully as the child with the same meal as me tried to pull April fools pranks on his mother by telling her there was a monster behind her then saying it was actually behind him whenever she looked over her shoulder to humor him. As we finish up our dinner the couple begins to feed the baby their mushy baby food that they did not need to order because they brought it from home like normal people apparently do when taking a baby to a restaurant when it hits me. There was applesauce on the menu. Hell there was applesauce at our table as Grandma’s side. Why the hell did I think they would order mashed potatoes over applesauce?