We drove up to the City and did some errands today- one of them being Hub’s attempt to return the defective HD scanner that destroyed his entire hard drive to Fry’s.
It went well. Go, Fry’s! I’ll continue to love you as long as you do what you’re supposed to do. One wrong move, of course, and I’ll nail you to the wall. For example? Boo, Hewlitt-Packard! We had to buy a new sound card today because your scanner software apparently blew the old one to smithereens. We did finally get the printer to work again, though.
Never cross a blogger.
On the way home, we stopped at Hub’s favorite restaurant, Jonathan Byrd’s. It’s not my favorite by a long shot, because I don’t like cafeterias, but the one who pays gets to choose, and I know he does love that restaurant.
There were two families sitting behind us. One of them had lovely well-behaved children who sat up straight, ate what was before them, spoke in an indoor voice, and behaved beautifully. They behaved like children, and I do love the giggle and chatter of a well-behaved child, but they behaved well.
The other family had five little boys who were as wild as unbroken mustangs. They were loud and wiggly and had no concept of an ‘indoor voice.’ Actually, neither did their parents, so it would have been amazing if the innocent children had been taught to behave properly in public.
These people were LOUD. Not obnoxious, really, for which we gave thanks, fasting, but simply LOUD. It was the kind of loud that can hyper a person into a frenzy.
When they finally left, there was a collective sigh of relief from everyone in the restaurant.
The well-behaved family watched the loud family leave with a look of amazement on their faces, parents and children alike.
It reminded me of my three beautiful borrowed Michigan children – now in their teens – who used to come down and stay a week with me during the summers: the most enjoyable week of my summers, it was. Sigh.
These three have always exhibited beautiful public behavior, even when they were tiny. One day, when they were still quite young, I took them to McDonald’s and, as usual, let them eat their ice cream first. (Hey, when children come to me for a vacation, I give them a VACATION.)
In a booth across from us was a family of wild animals, yelling, climbing, throwing things, grabbing each others’ food, you name an obnoxious public behavior and there it was, in the Beffurt McDonald’s, right across the floor from my three angels and me.
My borrowed kids stared in amazement, and when this awful family finally left, I whispered to them, “Now aren’t you glad your parents insisted that you always behave yourselves in public?”
As if in a chorus, all three children said, “YES!!”
In your family, who’s the boss? Hmm? Think hard. Who’s the boss? If it isn’t you and/or your spouse, you’re got trouble, and you’re going to have more.
Children are important. Children are the future. Children have a right to be loved and fed and clothed and hugged and honored and educated and respected. Did I mention “loved?” Yes? Well, it can’t be mentioned too often.
But children are NOT the bosses of our households. If yours is, please consider eating at home.
Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly