Everything went very smoothly. Well, a part from my mad panic getting Eloise and I to the train station on time, the bus not stopping to pick us up - most likely because I was an overloaded sweaty mother who clearly had somewhere important to be - so we called a taxi. When the taxi came I realized I didn't have any money bar some coins. I figured I could call the Frenchman to meet us to pay the fare. On the taxi ride over I got a text on my phone saying I had just run out of credit. Luckily the taxi driver was the same man who had driven us to Manchester for our trip to Chicago and he let me off with paying just under the fare. This is why I'm glad we always tip generously.
AnyHOO... We went to dinner at a big american restaurant called Maxwell's that came recommended as family friendly. We got set up with a high chair and some crayons and once drinks arrived Eloise was very happy to drink her milk by dipping her hand in her glass and sucking the milk off her hand. Perhaps not the most charming of methods, but if it keeps the kid happy in a busy restaurant I'm all for it. The company was fabulous - but we had to wait a good hour for our food. Eloise for the most part handled this wait fairly well - we had to keep her toys in a steady rotation and occasionally take her our of the high chair so she could have a change of view, but there were no tears. Then the food arrived - which was insanely hot - and the poor thing after waiting patiently, had to wait even longer for Mama and Daddy to blow on her fish fingers and chips while she nibbled on the cucumber and tomato from her salad.
Being hungry she ate heartily (as did we) and proved her English roots by devouring the little cup of baked beans that came with her meal. Once she was finished eating she started turning towards the other tables and flirting, saying hi! and waving. It was here that a table not far from us got up and left, but before they did, the grandmotherly-american woman came over to us. I'm sorry she said, but I just have to tell you that she is such a good baby. Oh! Thank you, I said. No. No. She emphasized, that is a REALLY good baby.
I'm not going to lie - despite the fact that Eloise happened to be in a good mood during a longer than anticipated meal which I can take no credit for as a parent - this was music to my ears. And I will replay her voice telling me what a good baby I have on days like today - when Eloise decides to spend most of her time screaming in my face because I am clearly not meeting her demands.
Eloise and I at the wedding.