The Hunger Grumps

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Boo, much like myself, is easily lured by a red banquette diner arrangement. Well, those and milkshakes. Put them together and I. Am. Sold.

Unfortunately Noodles was not so keen. Which is how we found ourselves sat in Ed’s Easy Diner with Noodles melting down faster than the cheese slices atop their burgers.

Part of me wanted to bolt and head to McDonald’s instead. Somewhere seemingly more appropriate for misery-inducing howling. Shouldn’t diners be about sunshine and breeziness? Noodles was definitely NOT on message. Less rock n roll, more thrash death metal.

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But those milkshakes! Boo’s heart was set on consuming her day’s recommended calorie allowance in Nutella-flavoured milk. What to do?

There was no audible tutting or scowling and the waitress was very sweet, so we stayed put, although I’ve still not figured out how to manage public meltdowns. The ones that can’t be rationalised or distracted, that just have to run their course.

I’m glad we stayed though as there seems to be magic contained within Ed’s Diner fries. Once they cooled down enough he became a different child. With each chip he became bouncier and sunnier until he was the embodiment of toddler bonniness. He devoured not just his own portion, but also part of mine and Boo’s.

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‘Aw, he just had the hunger grumps,’ the waitress reassured, earning herself a generous tip.

Ed’s Diner fries. The answer to my toddler hell. I now only wish we had a branch in the town where we live. (Then again, maybe not. I’d be seriously obese and broke, just to placate the screaming ab-dabs.) But at least I now have a public bolt hole if we have to eat away from home. Seriously, there’s even the jukebox to flick about once the contents of my bag have worn thin. What’s not to like?

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Ed’s, I thank you!

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5 thoughts on “The Hunger Grumps”

    1. Definitely! Teddy suffers pretty badly too. He can do happy to angrily starving faster than a Porsche going 0-60.
      It must be something to do with the male Id thing and how they never quite grow out of it.

  1. Hunger grumps. Wow, yes, it happens. And every time it does my husband looks at me really pointedly and refers to my jeans (haven’t figured his message yet, as if my clothing is making my kids hungry).

    Public meltdowns – also yes. There’s often no easy solution once they start (unless fries).

    1. Hahaha. Tell your husband it might be your jeans (sic) but it’s HIS problem.
      Fries seem to be the answer for Noodles in a way that wine/chocolate/wine AND chocolate is mine. Maybe it’s to do with my clothing too. 😉

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