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Last night, we decided to go out to dinner with some friends, and since there were a total of five children, including two toddlers, we picked pizza buffet where the 3 and under crowd eats free. This is also the perfect choice for a six-year-old with a hollow leg, like Jacob, who can eat nine slices of pizza by himself. (We will be loving buffet restaurants when all of our boys are teenagers.) But as usual, things did not turn out quite as expected--or maybe they did. I've learned that, as a mom, being prepared for anything, at least mentally, is the best method to sanity.

This story begins with a change of plans. The original afternoon plan had been to check out the local state park, which features water slides and $5 per person admission after 4 p.m., with friends. However, the U.S. versus Ghana World Cup game went into overtime and ended with a devastating U.S. loss, so our plans were delayed by more than an hour. Since the park closed at 7 and we were all hungry, we decided on pizza out instead. So our group of four parents, a first grader, a kindergartner, two 2-year-olds, an infant and one visiting French cousin, climbed into two vehicles and headed to the restaurant.

After about a ten minute car ride of Jacob whining about if we were there yet and punctuated by Andrew crying in his car seat, we arrived at the restaurant only to discover that Benjy had fallen asleep. Now when Benjy falls asleep, one of two things will happen. Either he will wake up and be an ogre for the next hour, or it will be virtually impossible to wake him up, and he will continue sleeping through dinner. Either way, we decided to persevere.

Chris dropped Jacob, Andrew and I off at the door and went to find a parking space. Since most of our group was now inside the restaurant, I started scoping out a table big enough to accommodate our party of 10. I saw an empty booth with another empty free standing table beside it, so I rushed over and slid the tables together, relieved to have found seating for all of us together in the busy restaurant.

I got all the kids to the table (except Benjy who was still asleep in Chris's arms while he waited in line to pay), a process which took at least three minutes, when a huge woman backed by three huge children walked up to the table claiming that I had stolen their table while they were getting their food. Now remember that I said the table was clean and empty. Empty... No cups. No plates. No keys. Nothing to indicate that anyone had any intention of eating there.

I looked around the restaurant and spotted other empty booths where this woman and her family could sit since they didn't need the extra table that I had pulled up. I explained to her that I hadn't realized she was sitting there since the table was empty and that we needed the two tables for our group, and I pointed out an empty booth just 8 feet away and clearly closer to the buffet line. (The table I indicated would have seemed a much more appealing option based on the sheer amount of food already piled on their plates. Clearly, they were going to be getting their money's worth at the buffet. Did they really want to have to navigate around the other restaurant patrons?)

And that's about the time she started to lose her mind. With clenched teeth and hunched shoulders, she started yelling about me stealing her table and trying to show me her receipt where she had paid for her meal. (Umm, last time I checked, the receipt doesn't have assigned seating on it at a buffet restaurant. Would she like to see mine?) She took two aggressive steps in my direction, holding firmly to her leaning tower of pizza. And that's when I decided it just wasn't worth it. Realizing that the woman was just too ignorant for rational thought, I surrendered the table to avoid further altercation and herded all four children out of the booth. Luckily, a group decided to leave, and having witnessed the entire scene, offered us their table. I thanked them graciously. The visiting French cousin in our group found the whole episode amusing. Fat Americans.

So I was finally seated with the kids, Chris was trying to get food for everyone, and Jacob was devouring his first plate of pizza. However, Benjy had decided to take option two and be impossible to wake up. This would have been fine if we had been in a booth. I would have just laid him down; however, we are not in a booth (see previous paragraphs) but in regular chairs in the middle of the restaurant. So I was holding a 37 lb. toddler who was completely limp in my arms, when Andrew started to cry again because he wanted to be held too. As, the visiting French cousin would say, Ay yay yay. So I tried to wake up Benjy, fearing the ogre attack, but desperately needing him to sit in his own chair, since Andrew would not let anyone else hold him because he too was hungry. After about five minutes of me tickling and kissing him while his eye lids fluttered, giving me tiny glimpses of white eyeball, Benjy awoke and I coerced him into the chair beside me. I began nursing Andrew, Chris finished filling cups and plates (Jacob had moved on to plate #2), and the meal settled down, momentarily.

Even though Benjy was grumpily sitting in his chair with a plate full of pizza in front of him, he refused to eat. At least his meal was free. He did, however, want to drink Coke. Chris and I exchanged a knowing look across the table agreeing to let him drink as long as he would sit still and be quiet. Neither one of us wanted to have to wrangle the ogre. This was a great plan until Benjy spilled the Coke all over himself and started screaming. Sixty pairs of eyes stared us down as if we had intentionally dumped 8 ounces of cold soda into our toddler's lap. The restaurant had, of course, run out of lids. Chris grabbed him up and rushed him to the bathroom to try to dry him under the blowers. And silly me, I had forgotten to repack extra shorts and undies after lending them to a friend's kid who had played in the creek with Jacob at the park the day before. At least we were prepared mentally, right?

Chris returned with a slightly more dry Benjy, who was surprisingly in a little better humor. The cold Coke had awakened and energized him, but he still would not eat. Chris refilled Benjy's Coke and got Jacob another plate of pizza. Andrew had finally fallen asleep, so I was able to lay him in his car seat again. Just as Chris and I exchanged hopeful looks across the table, Benjy spilled his Coke again, but this time the cold liquid rushed towards Chris and the visiting French cousin. It's not a meal without a spill, or two. Jacob finished his third plate of pizza.

The rest of the meal went as usual and pretty much uneventful-- for us anyway. Benjy was cut off from his Coke and so tried to drink all of mine. He stood in his chair a time or two or three or four and occasionally tried to climb on my shoulders. I should have made him sit by Chris. Jacob ate another plate of pizza, and Andrew woke up to coo. I even managed to interrogate the visiting French cousin about his education. This was actually quite a feat considering he has a pretty thick accent and Benjy was dancing around my head singing songs as he made them up.

Having finally had our fill of pizza, we all decided to leave the restaurant. Of course we had to walk past the glaring family of the table fight on our way out. And as if that was bad enough, while we were chatting in the parking lot, they headed to their car, which of course, was parked beside ours. Next time, I'm ordering in.