This morning we met Aunt Yoy and Cousin Yoy at Goldberg's for some chow before hitting up the park for a nice walk.
As usual, Goldberg's was crowded and they sat a large party at the table next to us. It was close quarters.
Out came our food. Aunt Yoy and I spent the next five minutes getting everyone situated before we were able to eat.
Finally. My breakfast. Come to mama!
I'm shoveling my food in, as usual, and I look up to a shocking scene.
The waitress was standing with her backside to Little E while she was taking the order for the table next to us. Like I said, it was close quarters.
It was close enough that Little E was able to reach out with his T-Rex arms and firmly plant his hand on this woman's booty. He was totally digging in and copping a feel.
I shouted at him and he jumped. He removed his hand immediately. The waitress laughed. The entire table next to us laughed. I apologized profusely for my perverted baby.
But it didn't end there. Little E is a sensitive soul. He does not like when I raise my voice, especially when it is directed at him.
First came the pout. Oh no, I knew where this was heading.
Little E, Little E it is ok. Mrs. Yoy isn't mad. I begged, I pleaded, I soothed.
But it was too late. Mt. Little E erupted. Crying and screaming with a mouth full of half-eaten food. See The Mrs. Yoy Diet Plan.
The mother at the table next to us turned around as Little E was basically screaming in her ear. She asked me if Little E was ok given the sheer volume of food in his gaping mouth.
OH HE'S FINE, THAT'S HOW HE EATS. (I'm such a good mother, I know)
Not to be overshadowed, Big E started fake crying as well.
For real? Can we not go anywhere without being a total freak show? I guess not.
We packed up the Yoys and hurried out of there. But not before I saw the waitress give her digits to Little E.