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… it said on the menu board in front of the restaurant.
Whenever I read anything like this, I wonder what the Human
Rights Commission in The Hague would have to say about such
signs. It seems obvious to me that all guests are welcome in a
restaurant, irrespective of age and height.
I had two small guests with me. My son Noah was 18 months
old and Christina, the daughter of friends of mine, was one
week short of her third birthday. I had offered to take the two
children for a meal in town so that the two mothers could
enjoy an undisturbed shopping spree.
‘Smoking or non-smoking?’ the waiter asked me in a very
professional tone, as I entered the restaurant flanked by the
two children. The Americans’ answer to that question would
be: ‘Having a smoking section in a restaurant is like having a
peeing section in a pool!’
‘Non-smoking,’ I answer and am shown to a table for two
while I try to stop Christina running off in the opposite direction
and Noah grabbing food from other tables. Before I can
ask, the waiter says: ‘I’m sorry, but we only have three high
chairs, and they are all in use at the moment.’ Uh, huh, I think
to myself. Children are welcome, but you don’t provide kiddiesized
chairs for them. My son is such a live wire that only a high
chair could save me from a very taxing trial of nerves, but the
waiter has just robbed me of all my illusions.
I order a mixed salad, for Noah a very small portion of
spaghetti with tomato sauce (his favourite). ‘We have a children’s
menu,’ the waiter proudly announces. But Noah doesn’t
want the Mickey Mouse Menu, just a small portion of spaghetti
with tomato sauce. Christina is quite capable of ordering her
own meal. At just three years of age, she has a vocabulary of
8,000 words, can read, and can decide for herself what she
wants and what she doesn’t want. Yet I have rarely found a
restaurant where the staff hand the children the menu or take
their orders directly. They usually only communicate with the
children via their parents. Children notice this, however, and
can be damning in their judgement.
‘Careful! The plates are very hot!’ someone says from behind
me, and instinctively, I spread my arms out left and right to
prevent Noah and Christina burning themselves. ‘Sorry, but
you can’t seriously be going to serve two small children their
meals on hot plates. Don’t you have children’s plates?’ ‘No,’
the waiter answers in an exasperated tone, ‘but I could tip it
onto another plate.’
Something smells bad around here. It can’t be the food; the
first couple of bites were delicious. Just as I thought: the
unpleasant odour is coming from Noah’s nappy. While
Christina tucks into her plate of Uncle-Dagobert’s Treasure, I
grab my son and dash off to the Ladies. Yes, you read right. The
Ladies. You never find a changing table in the men’s toilets. So
I fix that apologetic, strained smile on my face again and walk
through the door, to meet strained smiles from the women
reflected in the make-up mirror. I say the make-up mirror
because they don’t even have changing tables in the Ladies
here. As if I hadn’t already noticed just how welcome the little
ones are in this restaurant.
Not long after arriving back at my table, I ask for the bill, and
when it comes, I see that they have charged the full price for
Noah’s tiny portion of spaghetti. Children’s portions are only
available from the children’s menu. If you order anything else,
you pay the full adult price.
Two small diners and one grown-up guest leave the restaurant,
relieved. ‘Well, did you three have a good time?’ the two
mums ask as they hug their offspring. My face must have
spoken volumes, because they didn’t wait for an answer.
Amazingly good!
The following examples show that there is a better way.
A hotel in an Austrian resort has a Children’s Club with
trained staff. The special service here is that, when they check
in, parents are given a bleeper so that the babysitter can get in
touch with them at any time. This way, they don’t need to worry
how their children are.
In another restaurant, the children’s playground is right
next to the garden patio, so parents can keep an eye on their
children at all times.
At one very child-friendly restaurant, the chef collects children
from the restaurant whenever he can and gives them a
tour of the kitchens. At this restaurant, children can also sit
and eat at their own colourful children’s table, separate from
their parents. |