Kids Are Scary

Aaaand I'm back in Chicago after a few days in TN where I witnessed nepotism at its finest! Nothing quite like going to audition for your dream role only to find out it is already promised to the director's daughter. And the other leads are for his son and daughter-in-law. Cool.

Anyway, I've been meaning to post this story and haven't had the chance to. So here we go.

I was, once again, working a dinner shift and it was slow. We generally welcome any customers at that point because it gives the entire restaurant something to do. A family of five walks in, all three kids under the age of seven. The oldest son is being extremely loud and obnoxious and telling his mother that his blood is itching. He then glares at me as I am getting the menus and informs me that I, in fact, have too much blood in my body.

Cute kid.

I take them to a booth that they do not want and end up having to trek the entire length of the restaurant to get them a booth in the back corner. I guess they want to hide the strange child from the world. Understandable. I would be embarrassed of him too. Unfortunately the mother is difficult too and is going through the menu demanding all of these changes be made to recipes and what not. Fiiine, whatever. She tells me to in no way, shape, or form make this mango smoothie with anything pineapple. She does not like pineapple. I put pineapple juice in it. She loves it.

As I am taking the smoothie to the table, I see the strange child scribbling madly all over the chicken on our kids menu. In red, of course. Blood, obviously. Just as I put the smoothie down, the adorable little child picks up his butter knife and THROWS it at me. It hits me in the hip and clatters to the floor. Thankfully it was not a steak knife and nothing happened. The mother doesn't apologize, doesn't really CARE, just laughs it off and dismisses me with a wave of her hand like I'm a servant.

UM HELLO. YOUR CHILD IS A SERIAL KILLER. Maybe we need to be paying less attention to our dislike of pineapple and instead focusing on our obviously disturbed kid. He continued to draw blood all over everything and scream occasionally about other morbid things.

She then tipped her waitress two dollars for a fifty dollar tab. Maybe she's poor because she's paying so much for her son's psychiatric help? I certainly hope that's the reason.

Demented seven year olds that scream about blood and throw knives at people? Am I on Candid Camera?