"Muuuummy, when will it be time to go?" whined a small child in an annoyingly high voice.
"When you've eaten your pasta," the girl's mother replied automatically, as she had for the last five times her daughter had asked the same question. "So, the quicker you eat, the sooner we can go."
At the next table, Hermes massaged his temples to try and rid himself of a quickly forming headache. He'd thought coming here for a quick meal had been a good idea, but apparently, choosing to come here before the 7pm performance of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang had been a bad idea. The place was crawling with irritable children who should have been getting ready for bed, not to mention their irritable parents who were now realising they should have booked to see the 4pm performance instead.
Looking up as the waitress finally brought his meal to the table, he smiled his thanks through the irritation.
He had his food, and now, if the small child would just shut the hell up, he might be able to actually enjoy his meal. If she kept it up, he was going to ask for a different table. Sadly, a quick glance around the busy restaurant told him that his chances of being able to move were pretty slim.
Spearing a chip onto his fork, he sighed. How much longer would they be stuck in these crappy lives on Earth? How much longer would he have to endure the mortals and their petty problems, not to mention their incredibly annoying children?