Restaurant server: I'm never happy about serving a child

(Restiquette is a column that discusses proper etiquette in restaurants from a server's perspective.)

They're special, aren't they? Little hands and little eyes and little feet that just make you want to lift them into the sky for assured giggles. All the good of the world can be seen in a child's smile, but unfortunately, that smile can also belong to a devious, opportunistic brat who's mid-afternoon nap didn't quite take, leaving a flustered server to manage the warpath being created, one clump of noodles flung at a time.

Children are a touchy subject.

We all, even those without, have opinions on the proper way to wean youngsters. I myself was brought up in a fairly proper home where my brother and I set the table, and weren't excused until our plates were finished, and the request made.

I was taught how to hold a fork and knife properly, and got docked 10 cents from my allowance for every demerit. Hats came off at the table, an embarrassing realization for forgetful visiting friends. My brother and I weren't allowed in a formal dining setting until we could prove we deserved such a meal, which took until age 10.

Unfortunately for me, my Garfield golf tie made the trip, too. Naturally, all this training went out the window when I became a cafeteria rat in college, trading folded cloth napkins for games of, "Five bucks if you drink that -- wait wait (adding more salt) ... that!" and unlimited amounts of pizza, cereal and ice cream.

Still, I believe my brother and I received a proper education on table manners, and can call up our best selves for proper situations.

Today's youth, however, I don't have so much confidence in.

Whether it's the gadgets, the Dora, or endless A.D.D. diagnosis' children are little rascals. Never am I happy about serving a child, at least initially. A tike can pull me in with "please" and "thank you's", but unfortunately, I hear those words from about 5 percent of today's pre-pubescent crowd.

First, kids are messy.

"But of course they are!" you say, but toys strewn about are a different story than marinara sauce. Like most restaurants, mine offers a children's menu that doubles with intellectual mysteries to keep their attention. Unfortunately, 10 minutes into dining, its bleached white surface has turned into the foundation for Mount "I should be eating this food for nutrients and sustenance, but instead I'm going to pile it high, stabilizing the creation with Crayolas every inch."

In most cases, parents have already given up, making no effort to fence in the behavior. After all, it's been a long day of shopping / cat herding, and all they want is a nice glass of wine -- a reward I truly feel is deserved after spending only an hour corralling my mischievous cousins ("Why are you taking your shoe off? You can't walk across the street, the street we have to cross to get home, without your shoes on. I beg of you, put your shoes on."). Still, it's disheartening to observe parent's who say nothing as yet another fry goes flying.

Kids also drain the guest check average.

It's no surprise that a small plate of meat and veggies doesn't cost the same as the filet, so a four top with two kiddos won't add up to say, a four top of businessmen. And yes I said, "businessmen", not "businesswomen".

One of the most disheartening situations that can happen is when the hostess tells me I have an eight top coming in, and when sat, the drink order includes six Shirley Temples, and I love Shirley Temples!

For the effort of serving children, the monetary return just isn't there, especially if they're boat racing. Parents: If a server dumps a pitcher of pop / strawberry lemonade / high-fructose concoction on the table, it's because they're fed up making individual refills, and do not care about your child's dental situation if you don't.

Today's gadgets (iPhone, iPad, smart phones, mp3 players) are making children more difficult to communicate with.

I love nothing more for a child to proudly proclaim what they want to eat, but unfortunately in most cases, I either receive muffled answers or quizzical looks to their parents, followed by the parent just giving the order.

The argument might go, "Well maybe they're shy?" The same shy kid just ran around the restaurant, crawling under other people's tables.

Today's digital toys are pulling us all in (by "in" I mean "inside ourselves") and I see the effects nearly everyday with kids. Social skills aren't being developed while thumb muscles bulge. Again, to have a child be able to make eye contact, confidently order, and go about his business is not only rewarding for you, but us as well because we get to go to our other servers, saying, "That kid on 23 is legit."

Dining out is an American right, children involved or not.

I've now spent enough time with my cousins at home to understand what it takes to keep two girls from causing a mini-Armageddon. Food is involved, and cleanup is most definitely involved. Each sitting is a concerted effort. Dining out with children is a luxury, but what diners must understand is that the buck (being cleanup) is being passed onto the staff, you the parent being fully aware of what that cleansing will take.

Reward it.