And so it begins

My sweet lovely wife left out of town this morning to Tampa for work until Friday night. It went about as expected, O was up about every hour, I'm guessing because he was worried he wouldn't be able to say goodbye. Everyone was up earlier than normal and then O proceeded to have a fit that "he would die" if she went. Once it was decided that we would take her to the airport, he was fine about the whole situation. Most of the day went by swimmingly, the boys played well together and I got to watch football. Late in the afternoon they came out of the bathroom with a bottle full of soapy water. Says I, "what are you doing?" "we're doing an experiment". "where are you going with the water?" "outside". "not outside, keep it in the bathroom sink please. what kind of experiment?" "just an experiment" "ummm, okay, but please don't make a mess, and keep the water in the sink". "okay daddy". I don't know what I was thinking, I should have checked up on things, but I didn't. About 15 minutes later "Help!! Daddy help!!! There is water all over, it's spilling out of the toilet!" I'm still not sure what the experiment was or exactly what they were doing, they really didn't feel like talking once I started yelling. The only thing I got was that O was just trying to make the toilet paper go away by flushing it down. There was probably 2/3 of a brand new roll of tp gone too. Lovely. After that mess, I thought it best to go out to eat. My choice was to go to a microbrewery I can't go to with J, because they have stuffed deer heads on the wall, and she is phobically afraid of that. "No! I'll die if I have to go there, that place is awful!". Lacking the strength to argue or fight that battle, we went instead to the Italian Denny's, the Olive Garden. I don't mind the place, I quite like the salad, but tonight was less inspiring than normal. I'm not sure if our server was new or just lousy, either way a serious dink. At one point he comes to inform me the kitchen is out of penne pasta for my meal, but they will use ziti if it's okay. I'm fine with that, but how does a restaurant like that run out of a pasta. He brings me my beer, but no glass, earlier he tried to give me a Coke I didn't order. All the chairs have wheels on them, it's like the restaurant bought chairs from an old office building. Because of this, Q manages to fidget his chair out from under him and fall and bonk his head on the floor. The waiter does bring the boys food out when it is done, which is good, now Q can quit crying in my lap and eat. I wait for my dinner, O finishes his before mine comes, I am assured mine will be right out. A shrimp pasta comes out, but it's not what I ordered. Hungry and not wanting to try and explain this, I just eat it and wonder if the person who got mine liked it. About three bites into mine and Q has decided he doesn't like his and he's leaving. He pushes his chair back and hops down, except that with the wheels his chair slams back into the couple at the table next to us having a romantic dinner (or as romantic as any dinner can be at Olive Garden). I apologize and put him back in the seat explaining that I have to finish my dinner I didn't order. Q proceeds to start crying. The waiter comes back and promises more bread sticks to the delight of O (he had earlier been promised more), and takes O's drink to refill. He doesn't ask if I want another beer, nor does he refill my nearly empty water. I ask for a box for Q's. He comes back with the bread sticks, 2 boxes, and O's drink cup with a lid but no straw for him to drink it with. One might have thought he would leave the check since I asked for a box, but apparently I was too subtle. Mercifully the check comes, but at this point O, bored with everything, is trying to drink from his cup with no hands (and the lid off because there is no straw), and dumps it the table, himself and his chair. He yells that he needs a towel, I tell him to move, but he can't because he is sitting with his leg through the hole in the armrest and will get even more wet if he tries to get out. Our waiter tries to help with O's napkin, but he's basically an idiot and no help, so I tell him I've got it. Q asks, now can we go, slams his chair back again, and almost takes out the tables food being served to them. "yes as soon as daddy signs this little paper". I'm not a mean person, so I still left shit for brains a 15% tip, but I also left ice and water everywhere too. I'm hoping the rest of the week goes a little bit better, that and I never have that waiter again.