Squirrels in Everybody's Attic

Husband Jack had been out of town for about three consecutive weeks. I was spending a lot of time alone with the exception of two dogs that insisted on sleeping with me and about a dozen squirrels in our attic who are practicing avidly for the Cirque de Soleil. Sometimes I lie in bed wondering when a squirrel is going to finally make its way through the ceiling and fall on my face. Three weeks ago, Jack climbed into the attic and blasted an air horn for so long that I finally called up to ask if he was still trying to scare the squirrels or if he was calling for help.

Anyway, Jack got to come home earlier than planned and I needed to GET OUT THE HOUSE, so we went out. Jack had been up since 4 a.m. trying to tie up loose ends and catch a plane, so he was wired and irritable. A woman two booths over sat as her baby screamed bloody murder. Jack turned around and glared at her several times, even though I tried to get him to stop.

Suddenly she’s at our table with baby in tow. “Excuse me!” she shouts. “Do you have children?”

“Yes, we do,” says Jack.

“Well I don’t appreciate your dirty looks just because my baby is crying.”

I reach over and kind of pat her arm trying to say without words, okay, okay, take it down a notch.

She shrugs me off, squares off again and yells, “Didn’t your kids ever make noise in a restaurant?!”

“Well, if he did, I took him out immediately,” says Jack (which is true).

“Well my husband is out of town and my baby is teething!”

This information made me beg the question, then why are you here at a restaurant alone with the baby under such circumstances? However, I didn’t want to exacerbate the situation, so I said nothing.

“I bet your kid was really obnoxious in restaurants,” she continued.

“Well, actually that’s not true,” I said.

“I bet it is,” she countered pithily and stomped out of the restaurant.

Never a dull moment. A good time was had by all.