Five Guys

Yesterday I woke up on the wrong side of the bed and continued the pity party all morning.  At 11:00 everyone was bathed, dressed, and fed and we had an hour to kill before lunch.  Russell was ornery but didn't want to sleep and since I definitely wasn't in the mood to entertain we headed to Target with no real purpose other than to buy me a bottle of nail polish.

I tried to enjoy browsing the store, but Lydia's deaf ears to my persistent warnings about opening the bottle of nail polish definitely interrupted.  Carrying on my pity party, I decided I would at least splurge on a treat for myself and sneakily eat it during the kids' nap time.  However, the bakery at Target's didn't have anything I wanted.  Or maybe they did, but I can't ignore the nutritional labels they put on their desserts--I'd rather just not know.  So being just a little ways from a delicious little cake store called "Nothing Bundt Cakes" I got a harebrained notion, loaded up the kids and drove there ignoring the motherly instinct that told me I should just go home.

We crossed the insanely busy parking lot (me pushing a stroller with one hand and dragging Lydia with the other as we ran) and I again thought, "Why am I here by myself with both kids in one of the busiest lunchtime areas in the city?"  But the lure of that delicious cake kept me walking.  I acquired the piece of chocolate heaven I wanted.  And just as we were walking out, Lydia started to tantrum at the same time that I realized Five Guys was just next door.  Before she could get very far and before I thought it all the way through I said, "Should we get some fries?"  Tantrum solved.

I didn't get three feet into Five Guys before I knew it was a mistake.  The restaurant is always crowded and resides in a building that is smaller than my apartment.  Russell's stroller got caught and banged against every pole, chair, and table as I struggled through.  I enjoyed my burger, but was annoyed I'd forgot to order a cheeseburger and thanked heaven that Lydia was content with her fries.  And then it was time to leave.  I had to ask two men to completely stand up from their chairs and tuck them in so I could get Russell's stroller through, then I had to ask another kid to move his chair from the aisle, and since my struggle was so completely obvious, another guy held open the swinging garbage can lid for me and another held open the door as I tripped through.  I felt more like I had tried to run the gauntlet than simply walk out of a restaurant.  I was a little embarrassed and thankful at the same time when the last guy helping me said, "Hang in there."  It made my nose and eyes sting as I suddenly fought tears and the desire to live someone else's life just for awhile.  Three thoughts crossed my mind, I brought this on myself, what was I thinking, and I need a good cry.  Five guys (really) just had to help me leave Five Guys (the restaurant).  Thank you! Sigh.

After all that, I got home feeling so full of grease and bun that I knew I wouldn't enjoy my cake the way I would've if I just listened to my motherly voice, come home, and eaten the over healthy, homemade vegetable soup I had planned on eating that day.  I had made my little treat feel more guilty than pleasure.

That is why, today, we are staying home.