I finally became one of “those parents” with the screaming child in the restaurant. However, in my defense it took a good 9 months for it to happen, so I think I deserve some kind of pat on the back. (But it’s not like she’s been out to that many eateries — probably under 10.)

I’ll have you know that I promptly left the restaurant once she let out her first, ear-piercing shriek. I wasn’t about to stay and enjoy my spicy sesame chicken when it was my fault for bringing her out in the first place.

The wheels were set in motion when the hubby called to ask if I wanted to join him and his mom for lunch. Why yes, going out to lunch during the middle of the week is one of my favorite things to do (or at least it used to be), so I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. But the timing could have been better…a whole lot better.

I take full responsibility because I knew my daughter was tired and due for her afternoon nap, but I thought that she’d be fine if I was holding her. I was just thinking that my trade-off for her not napping like a “normal” baby was that she’s almost always very mellow and well-behaved when we’re out and about. Well, damn if they don’t love to prove you wrong.

I almost called and canceled, but the lure of midday dining was too strong (and I’m completely selfish). So I kept the date and met them against my mummy’s intuition. We sat down and threw every toy at her from the diaper bag. We even let her play with the chopsticks despite the jagged wooden edges. They were keeping her happy…for the moment.

At first I didn’t worry too much, even brushing off my husband’s concerned look at her first sign of fussiness. The din from our fellow diners and the music overhead was pretty loud, so her first squawks went unnoticed. But as I walked back to the bathroom to rinse her pacifier for the second time after she spit it on the floor, a blood-curling screech followed me, prompting a reaction from an older lady sitting at the sushi bar.  I knew then what I had to do.

Get the hell out of there!

I did not want to be “those people” with the screaming kid, garnering angry stares from everyone sitting around us. So I quickly inhaled a few bites of chicken, gathered her up, and went home.

There you have it. I reached a new mummy milestone and I survived. Scratch that off the list and wait for the next one.