My child is not an an-ni-maaal

Valentine's Day has come and gone, and with it the extreme mood swings that make any other day look like Zen meditation moments. After a virtual love fest at preschool that included decorating cookies and handing out Valentines to nearly 20 party-hyped three-year-olds in various states of disarray and mucus discharge, it was time to head home. My head was pounding with a heat-and-shriek-induced migraine, but my heart was so full of joy and love after watching all those little bundles of Id-minus-Super-Ego throw themselves into the arms of their classmates with abandon and often destructive force. Shawn Joaquin's delight over the tattoos, stickers and glitter-covered cards was only surpassed by his new love of Ariel, featured on one of his sticky little Valentine cards and his pink cupcake. The frosting on his nose was merely a sign to other kids that yeah, he'd gotten some, and he'd loved every minute of it.

After a sugar-induced coma for Shawn Joaquin and a Zomig-induced healing for me, we headed to á Cote for dinner with Gregg. As I tried to break through the front door crowd, a couple in front of me was loudly discussing how inappropriate it was to bring children to such a nice restaurant and on Valentine's night, no less — all said while staring at my son and husband. Gregg and Shawn Joaquin were already in the dining area and I made my way over to them, accidentally and sharply elbowing the disagreeable man in the back to ensure that he saw me. GAME ON, mister.

With no lack of trepidation, I sat down at our centrally located table. My competitive nature and motherly pride had me ready to give in to any whim to avoid a shout of "NOT THAT FOOD! NOT THAT WAY! NOOOOOOOO!"

I'm happy to say that Shawn Joaquin was beautifully behaved during dinner — from his parpardelle and Croque Monsieur to the cup of steamed milk he enjoyed while we had our coffee. He enjoyed the short rib sugo, the picholines, the beet risotto and the crisp polenta served with arugula and gorgonzola. We all held hands, opened gifts and cards, and had our own private love fest in the candlelight. As we rose to leave after 2 hours, it was all I could do not to thrust my child's angelic face in that of the complaining rat bastard from earlier and say, "In your FACE, mister!". Thankfully I was interrupted by the couple at the table next to us, who asked us if we were proud of our son and his exceptional behavior.

What could I say? I am proud of my son for his exceptional restaurant manners, which began with a 3-hour meal at Olivetto's at 7 months and has extended to this day. But I'm proud of him always - when he questions me about everything, when he demands that I leave his area, when he asks me why I'm sad or happy or laughing, or announces loudly and publicly from the check out line that tinkling in the toilet is FUNNY. So all I could say was yes, and that this was the best Valentine's night I've ever had.