Grown-ups should not wear bibs in public. Especially ones that feature giant clowny lobsters on them. It sends a negative message to our brain. Tonight I will fail. My food will defeat me. The waiter is in on it.
It also sends a worrisome message to our fellow diners. They might think we’ve suffered a head injury. Why else would anyone who’s been eating for decades unassisted suddenly believe they need a plastic shield at dinner? They obviously have no memory of being able to successfully negotiate the route between their plate and their face.
Finally, if you’re on a date, it’s really not bueno.
It says you’re okay with looking like an enormous child in a white trash bag determined to conquer melted butter…One-way ticket to Nevergettinglaid.
Bibs are hygiene tools specifically designed for babies and toddlers. Parents fasten them to tiny humans because they suck at eating and their motor skills rival a drunken sloth with one arm. Their food-to-mouth ratio is a pathetic 1 to 20 until the age of five. By sundown they’re stumbling miniature smorgasbords with crusty faces.
No full-sized adult should ever fear reverting back to this state. It’s physically impossible. We can hold things for longer than three seconds, our heads don’t bob like dash-board Chihuahuas, and we don’t require a seatbelt at the table. We’re safe.
Therefore, the next time a server offers you a bib, please smile confidently and say, “No thank you. I can manage.” Because you can. We all can. And we should.
Full disclosure: I have coffee on my shirt.