Another story about eating out

I think I should write an article for the Jackson metro area concerning family-friendly eating establishments. I've been to almost all of them since I've had kids and I can definitely give a rating on which ones are happy and accommodating and those that let you struggle with two kids, two bags, and two trays of food. Well, that's for another day. Today I'm going to talk about one of my new favorite places, Piccadilly. It's perfect for taking the kids by myself and they LOVE it! There are several vegetables that Taylor will actually eat (probably because they are cooked in lard but they're still vegetables right?). You walk in and the rolling highchairs greet you at the front door. So I shove Taylor in one, hang the diaper bag on the back, and Brannon pushes him through the line. (No lost digits yet thank goodness.) I push two trays through the line and someone is there waiting to carry our trays to the table. Perfect! The only problem with Piccadilly is the guilt I feel as our meal progresses. Throughout the course of the meal we proceed to go through many very messy foods. I pile lima beans (Taylor's favorite), mac and cheese, black-eyed peas, chicken, and whatever other foods we choose that day onto Taylor's tray. They all sort of mix together into a pile of mush with a color that can't really be described. All the time he is shoving it in his mouth and covering his face, clothes, and hair with this lovely mixture. When he tires of this he starts sneaking it onto the ground around him. Brannon, on the other hand, has already demolished his shrimp (gross I know, but he loves it). He has taken the remaining ketchup, mixed it with the black-eyes peas, and dumped this into his green jello. He then stirs the concoction until it is practically liquid and then begins to eat it. Okay, so how many of you are disgusted yet? Exactly my point. I never make eye contact with the surrounding patrons. I don't want to know how many are having to get up and leave their meals because they are sick to their stomachs. I don't want to see the ugly looks and the judging stares. I too love Piccadilly and I want to keep going back. Oh, and the best thing about Piccadilly. We get to leave a big tip and just leave the mess behind! I guess except for the damage to my kids clothes (no Brannon is not bleeding, he's just covered from head to toe in ketchup). For this, I REALLY wish I had my camera!