Two of the best things about living in Aurora are due in large part to the ever growing Hispanic population here.

One, lots of big Catholic families, although the language barrier makes interacting with them difficult. Still, the family atmosphere is nice.

Two, there is a wealth of really good Mexican food.

So tonight I took the family out to for pork burritos at Taco Movil. They have the best pork burrito in the world. I don’t know what they do to that pork but it very well might involve a deal with the devil. And if that’s the case, I think I’m fine with it. Meat sacrificed to idols is ok, right?

Anyway, as we were eating, a remarkable thing happened. Erin had stood up with Peter, now 4 months for those of you keeping score at home, as he was being quite fussy. The waitress, who spoke very little English and had been cooing over him earlier, then did something that could never occur in an American restaurant:

She asked Erin if she could hold Peter for her.

Let that sink in for a moment. The waitress, far from being put off by Peter’s crying, asked if she could take the baby. It should be noted that, especially with strangers, Erin is kind of choosy about who holds our babies. So it was much to my surprise that Erin said yes.

She popped Peter on her hip like he was her very own and took him off to show to the other waitresses. They passed him around, they ooed and ahhed, they came back to ask how old he was. It was so unbelievably human. Erin even got to eat most of her dinner in peace before Peter got to fussing again and the waitress brought him back. Even then, she didn’t really seem like she wanted to give him up.

What is so backwards about American culture that makes it impossible to imagine that happening at Chili’s? A crying baby is likely to make you the object of hate and exasperation from your typical American wait staff. Far from it, at Taco Movil, it made us minor celebrities.

After leaving a hefty tip for some of the best dinner service I’ve ever received, we went home, having had a very lovely dinner. It’s nice not to be made to feel like an outcast for having small children.