Wanted

After an eventful night at our 'Gymboree Pajama Party', in which we, meaning our family of three, made up a third of the party, we decided to get a quick bite to eat at Portillo's.  It was busy as always we had to park 100 paces away in the Chipotle parking lot.  A conflict of interest I know, but was all that was available. 

Of course as soon as we got inside Hazel wanted "Down" and to "Play".  Phillip is one to just 'release her into the wild'( as I call it) and then get distracted pondering over the double or the triple cheese burger, (while she runs out the door with another family.  I kid.)  However, Hazel has, in a matter of 30 seconds managed to escaped through the airport line-esque barricades and squeeze herself through a (non-prego mom sized) opening in the fake picket white fence separating the ordering and the eating customers.  I, or course, am left to waddle after her, as he continues to ponder the menu. grumbling "he better remember my cheese fries!"

After she ran several laps around the restaurant, told several white headed men "No!," touched everything and anything that may have looked germy, and finally reprimanded herself for wanting to pull a little girls hair (which she didn't actually do, but apparently thought about), she settled her sights on a highchair sitting by the trash can, alone and most importantly unattended (or so I thought).  

She wanted "up" and I was only too happy too oblige.  The high chairs at portillos have wheels so I knew as soon as I had her up and buckled she was trapped and I could wheel her around to wherever we were able to find a seat.  Alas, I spied a worker beginning clean- up on booth clear on the other side of the room and quickly shuttled Hazel over to wait for the table.  Funnily enough the table had a highchair at it already, but I wasn't about to unstrap her and move her to another swine flu breeding ground.  

As Hazel and I sat patiently waiting for our table to be cleaned I was approached from behind with a "Excuse me Miss?"  I turned expecting to be told I had dropped my keys, wallet or child, but instead this polite intro was abruptly followed by "Where did you get that highchair, because I think you stole it from our table."  To which I stuttered a stunned response of "No, I got it over there on the other side of the wall."  To which she rolled her eyes and walked away.  

Let me again reiterate that at the very table we siting at there was an empty high chair sitting in the middle of the floor which wasn't being used.  As a pacifist myself I can't even imagine the strength it would take me to muster up the courage to confront someone who may or may not have taken my high chair. Let alone to march up to them and say the actual words "You -stole my- highchair."   I imagine it would be much easier and less stressful to grab another high chair.  Had I not been so taken aback I would have kindly offered her our surplus which she maneuvered around to make her accusations.  But the idea that I was a thief really caught me off guard.  Then I started second guessing myself.  Maybe the highchair was at a table.  Maybe I did remove their child subcontiously to place mine inside.  Maybe it was her hamburger I was eating as well.  Who am I?  Where am I?  

Although the interaction was brief and non-threatening, I still feared for my life.  Therefore, Phillip had to be the designated utensil, napkin, and condiment runner for the evening, I couldn't risk another run in.  

Luckily, thanks to some good planning, we made it through dinner without another incident.  However, I did check the rear view mirrors the whole way home and will make double triple sure to lock the doors tonight.  That woman had crazy in her eyes and if she is ridiculous enough to confront me about high chair theft, who knows the extremes she may be willing to go to to get her revenge....Until next time...