With the errands I had to run today, I knew I would not be near home at Linden's next feeding. So I packed a bottle and made plans to stop at a restaurant for lunch. I figured I'd get a little break, and I could feed him while my food was being prepared. A win, win.
Not!
As I make a habit of eating at the same places, at the same time, on the same days, I forget about the places I normally avoid with a baby. Places where babies, and those carrying them, are treated like leapers.
Seriously, in thirty minutes, three tables of people asked to be reseated once they realized a baby was in their section. They didn't even sit down. And Linden was being good; a few happy noises, some drool, a smile or two.
The restaurant was fast filling up, except for the immediate tables around us. You would have thought we were flinging food.
I became so self conscience I couldn't enjoy my lunch. I called for my check and left before someone decided to jump out a window to escape us.
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