Where Children Dare To Tread 

A few weeks ago, for my birthday, my wife and my sister wanted to know where I would like to have a nice birthday dinner, so I decided on “Monti’s�?because it’s a nice quiet place to have a prime rib dinner at a reasonable price. (If you’re Bill Gates that is) Didn’t matter, it was my birthday and I was going to splurge. 

After the waiter guided us through the maze of rooms, and tables, (if you’ve ever ate there you’d know what I mean, otherwise you have to use your imagination), we sat, enjoyed good conversation, fantastic bread and fine wine, until it was time to order. 

Lighthearted chitchat continued with the soups and salads, which were soon replaced with the main course. Silence was the order of the moment, as all of us savored the aroma of the finely prepared entrees.   I picked up my knife and fork, ready to carve into the mouth watering, melt-in-your-mouth, prime rib when I heard a blood-curdling yowl that sounded, strangely, like a cat being skinned alive.  And I wasn’t the only one with that thought, everyone at my table dropped their utensils and stared at their plates in horror; the elderly gentlemen at the table next to me was fumbling, trying to replace his dentures.  

 Before we could locate the source of this hideous act of cruelty the Pet Police and the SPCA busted in the back door seeking the perpetrator of this hideous crime.

 For a few seconds there was complete silence, not a sound as we listened�?waiting for the next poor creature to cry out for a savior.  Then we heard it, a ragged intake of air, followed by a more excruciating and extended caterwauler than the first one.  All eyes opened wide in shock, and the Pet Posse drew their stun guns, ready to take down the doer of evil, the torturer of innocent kittens.

Then, all heads turned slowly to a corner table where a three year old rug rat was sitting on the floor; legs kicking, arms flailing and face turning blue as he went silent once again when the last cubic millimeter of air left his lungs.  He struggled and gulped at the air getting ready for the third ear-buster when we noticed, what appeared to be, Mom, Grandma and Auntie, eating and laughing at the table.  It never ceases to amaze me how parents can be so oblivious to the decibel of their own kids while everyone else in the restaurant is losing their appetites, (not to mention their teeth), and turning their hearing aids off, while attempting to be politically correct by trying to ignore the horrible sound that is wracking their nerves. 

 The Pet Patrol, discovering their mistake, slinked out the back door mumbling promises to have the broken door repaired.  Extreme cruelty to adult patrons was not in their job description.

 I asked for new utensils, as mine had somehow ended up on the floor. Just as I made one more attempt at my now warm, dinner ...  round three hit so hard and fast it rattled the windows and shattered the nerves of everybody within three miles.  I did an admirable juggling act with my fork and my knife did a beautiful one-point landing in my garlic-mashed potatoes.  

 “Waiter!�?I signaled furtively and, as he approached I asked, “My check please.�?nbsp; All heads nodded at my table and hands all over the room were going up. “Oh, and could you bring us some take-home boxes please?�?nbsp;

 “Something wrong with your dinner?  I could have it redone if you like.�?nbsp; His calm amazed me.

 “Oh, nothing that…�?My wife jabbed me in the ribs, knowing what I was about to say.  I relented.  “No, it’s fine.  I just don’t have much of an appetite…now.�?I had to sneak it in.  She jabbed me again.

 By now the little�?darlin�?was in pro form, he was on his back kicking, with arms flailing like a drowning man and he let out a howl that would put a T-Rex to shame.  I heard brakes screeching on the street outside and wondered if he’d managed to fell a tree into the street. 

 More amazing than anything was Mom, Grandma and Auntie. Their conversation and laughter hadn’t broke stride.  I couldn’t believe anyone could put up with that right next to them.

 As the mass exodus started out the back door, Little Godzilla let loose with a sonic boom that set off car alarms in the parking lot.  I swear, the serving staff must read lips.  Surely they must be deaf.

 I opened the car door for my wife and as she got in the car, I looked out across the normally placid Tempe Town Lake and noticed three foot breakers reaching the north side of the lake. 

 “Nah! He couldn’t. Could he?�?/FONT>