Get your foot outta your cheeseburger

My husband (aka Danger Dad) has started training a YOUNG GUY who wanted to hit the weights hard for a three week period while his girlfriend is out of town. At dinner DD recounts this story to me which makes me acknowledge just how tough parenting can be.

Aforementioned YG is like, "Have you been to this new restaurant, xyz xyz. Its really nice."

Yeah right. We havent been out in a while.

DANGER DAD says "Ive got three kids we dont get out much."  The award for understatement of the year goes to DANGER DAD!!   Lets give the man a holiday to Straddie!

 Last two times we went out, we went to Sizzler. Super classy only the best for us.

"We left early because my eldest son put his foot up onto the table - in the middle of his cheese burger."

Correct me if Im wrong but you never think you signed up for this gig where you say SON! Get your foot out of your cheeseburger - NOW!

"We tried one more time, also leaving early because the same son suddenly got sick and vomitted on the table."

Incidentally other diners also left early that night after witnessing his salad, soup, pasta and dessert bars make a spectacular come-back.

I might add my MIL (Mother in law) thought catching the vomit in her hands and piling it onto a plate was a good idea (Help me, Lord). I myself spent half an hour rinsing his fleecy pants in the toilets and trying to dry them in the loo under the hand dryer as a result of her undermining my screams for him just to lean over and vomit on the floor instead.

Any pleasure I mightve gotten from the night was sucked into a vortex of Mummy-related-headache-inducing-responsibilities. 

Yeah that and indigestion.
YOUNG GUY replies "Oh. Dude, you gotta get a sitter."

Yes Sherlock.

And that was before Diabetes.