Introducing eating out with small children

I am probably a terrible mother. I don't spend meal times with my children feeding them homemade hummus and teaching them the different ways to cook an aubergine like I'm sure good mothers do. I take them to cafes and coffee shops and restaurants and submit the general public to their company on a daily basis.

Me to Husband "Do you think we eat out too often?"
Husband "No. What makes you ask that?"
At this point we are just walking past our local Weatherspoons (Other chain pubs are of course available..) when daughter number one starts shouting " Porridge, toast and a cup of tea please". When we continue to walk past she starts to beg "Please I need breakfast, I'm very hungry" (This is despite the fact that she has already had one, if not two breakfasts at home!). When they have their own breakfast order and recognise the building I think it might be a sign that we go there too much!

Another fun experience is dining out with a toddler who is now potty trained. So far it has been impossible to explain to her that although at home she is not discouraged from letting us know she needs the toilet, standing on a chair and announcing to the whole restaurant that she "needs to have a big lunch poo" does not make for a great dining experience for other people.
Worse still is the "toilet walk of shame" when she either talks loudly about her impending bowl movements or tells anyone unfortunate enough to make eye contact with her that "I am going for a poo". She also likes to emerge from said toilet visit and announce to anyone in the near vicinity that "IVE DONE A WEE!!".

Lastly there are the unpredictable observation skills. We were very proud when daughter number one learnt to recognise an entire range of colours. That was until we were sat in a fairly intimate cafe when she starts pointing at a woman on the next table and loudly asking "Mummy is that lady's hair green?" Her hair was in fact a delightful shade of broccoli and was a feature that had not gone unnoticed by Husband and I. This however just made getting D1 to not talk about it so much harder. She then picked up a strand of her own hair and started exclaiming "My hair is orange and her hair is green. GREEN Mummy GREEN."
We should probably wait a while before taking her to any punk festivals, she would probably spontaneously combust from all the hair colour related excitement! Or Husband would get punched by an offended purple haired punk....