Without too many tears or protestations...

On Wednesday of half-term, we decided to go with all six grandchildren,
and assorted other relatives, to celebrate DH's forthcoming landmark birthday.
In order to accommodate this, a table for twelve was booked at a local hostelry,
selected primarily because it wasn't too far away,
and secondly, because it was a carvery - which met DH's restricted dietary requirements.

The KHT and I walked halfway,
whilst DH went back to collect some more of the party.
The plan was that we would all end up at the pub at roughly the same time.
It SHOULD have worked,
but it didn't quite...
As a result, the KHT and I found ourselves with the unexpected luxury of a table with twelve places,
for just the two of us.
Eventually, they all managed to arrive safely,
pass the play area without too many tears or protestations and took their seats,
again without too many tears or protestations.
If you are detecting a theme here, you may well be right.

The menus were perused,
but when you are four and yet to master the art of reading it may as well be in a foreign language!
When informed of her options G5 quickly made her selection.
Once everyone had made their choices - without too many tears or protestations  - we could order our food.

Grandad by G5 (aged 4)

Expecting six grandchildren to sit quietly at a table while a meal was consumed, was an ambitious plan,
so I went prepared with little notebooks,
packs of pencils and multicoloured biros.
For the most part, the notebooks did a good job of keeping them settled -  without too many tears or protestations.
A couple of them drew portraits of Grandad to mark the auspicious occasion...

However, G4 (aged 6) and G5 (aged 4) were very taken with the soft toy grabber machine just to the left of the KHT in the top photo.
One family spent quite a bit of money and time trying to extract an inferior soft toy and failing.
Each time, hope sprang eternal, and they were convinced they would win.
Each time reality was victorious over hope, and even if they managed to get hold of a toy, somehow the grabber would not live up to its name and the toy would slip from its grasp.
Each time they attempted to win a toy,  G4 (aged 6) and G5 (aged 4) magically appeared with noses pressed against the glass,
watching every move,
convinced that this WOULD be the time that the toy would be won,
and watched with disbelief as once again they failed.
The rest of us watched on,
knowing their chance of success would be slim, as you can see from this link,
and wondered why they hadn't just popped over the road to Lidl
 bought something for their daughter and saved a lot of money.

The smell of burning permeated the restaurant.
"They are cooking our pizzas!" announced Terry,
sniffing the slightly acrid aroma that was wafting around the restaurant.
A few minutes later a buzzer summons our table to collect our 'cooked to order food',
which somehow ended up being one more meal than children present - but what is a few extra nuggets between cousins?
Not being a fan of chips the KHT made a selection from the salad bar...

DH and I went and joined a short queue for carvery.
We do enjoy a good carvery,
especially as it is one of the few meals DH knows he can eat without side effects.
The staff are usually only too happy to make him a little jug of gluten-free gravy.
He just needs to avoid certain foods like carrots,
as he is aware that carotene is a known trigger of itches.

G4 (aged 6) and G5 (aged 4) failed to persuade anyone from our party to put money in the greedy grabber,
but they did get the chance to go outside on the play area after the main course.

After consuming a whole pizza and her plate of salad the KHT was replete,
so elder daughter took her token and filled a bowl with ice cream,
sharing some spoonfuls with a rather surprised but happy G6.
His face was a picture.
Each and every mouthful was much colder than he anticipated!

Unfortunately, there was nothing on the menu that DH could order.
This resulted in some members of the family grasping the restrictions he is under
"So no gluten, no dairy.."
"No black pepper - we think"
"No egg."
"No carotene"
"Gosh, you used to love your cheese sandwiches! You lived on those!"

Finally, the children were strapped into car seats and taken home to dream of bowls of super-whipped ice cream.
Three of us walked home, taking a meandering route over footbridges,
and through estates to show elder daughter the new community orchard.
However, as her sense of geography isn't that great
by the time she finds her way back she may well be a granny gobbling up the Granny Smiths.' (Don't pout, dear, you can be a granny in your 30's...)




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