One Sunday in the April school holidays we had an early dinner at the Rose & Shamrock Village Inn in Havelock North. It's an unpretentious, bustling, faux English/Irish pub that's a great place for family dining as long as you're into onion rings, Sunday roasts and fisherman's baskets - and every so often this is exactly the sort of food we crave.
This particular evening, though, I wasn't focused on the cuisine but rather the unsupervised children who loitered around tables and played on the small flight of stairs leading to the elevated dining section. I watched other patrons (intent on not spilling their beers) good-naturedly swerve around the rug-rats and I noted that the waitresses were clearly well practised in the art of nimbly dodging these human obstacles.
And a few questions sprung to mind. Where were the parents? Why weren't they watching their children? And why do they have such little regard for unsuspecting diners and busy staff members? Unless these children all had a valid reason, such as suffering from a disorder, it seemed more than a little thoughtless and uncivilised.
My ten-year-old knows that once she's seated at a restaurant she needs a very good excuse to even look like she's thinking about leaving her chair before the meal is over and we all leave. The restaurant catching fire and the premises being evacuated would be one good reason. I can't think of many others.
We started taking her to restaurants when she was very young and the number one rule was that she didn't budge. I set those standards early because it was important to me that when she was older she could be trusted to behave impeccably so we could all have a relaxing meal out without disturbing others. I was determined that my child's behaviour would not be frowned upon by other diners.