Yesterday a waitress followed me out of the eatery and told me, “I just have to tell you, every time you come in – your children are the best-behaved kids.” I said thank you (surprised) and my mom and I waited until she’d returned inside and then stared at eachother wondering what kind of children this restaurant is used to since Nels’ last act of the lunch date was to drink directly from the cream pitcher and I’d felt like choking him more than once.
Oddly this is the second time in a little over a week someone has told me our kids were “the best-behaved kids [they] know.” It’s nice to hear; we really do want the little beasts to mostly mind themselves.
And I’m the first to find fanvids creepy and off-putting, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit these images dance around inside my brain sometimes.