This weekend, we decided to go out for Italian food at a new restaurant. It was dinnertime, it was going to be crowded, we should have known better. Max gets wiggy in unfamiliar environments, and he can’t stand noise. But we wanted to try.
You can guess what happened.
We got there, they seated us, and Max took off and ran back to the front door, where he stood.
Dave went to get him and bring him back. Max wailed, and took off again.
I grabbed Sabrina, his little sis, and went back to the front. Compromise: Take the food to go.
I guess we could have waited it out, tried to get him to adjust to the restaurant, even took turns hanging out with him in front. But, he wasn’t happy and I decided it was worth sacrificing our dinner out to keep him happy.
This is a constant juggling act. Max is the neediest individual in our family. I don’t think it’s fair to deny Sabrina (or Dave or me, for that matter) certain pleasures in life because of his sensitivities. But more often than not, I put Max’s happiness above our own. More often than not, our lives center around him.
Do you guys know what I mean?
Ellen blogs daily at To The Max