Occasionally your father and I are brave enough to take you two out to dinner. It’s not that you’re rotten kids, it’s just that your table manners are a work-in-progress. We’re working on things like inside voices, staying seated, and not staring at the other patrons…to name a few.
To be fair to Kitten, she is light years ahead of Buddy, and to be fair to Buddy…he’s two. But, in general it is not exactly a relaxing dinner experience with you two in tow.
Which is why when you two occasionally slip underneath the table for a lost fork or just to pretend it’s a castle, I don’t say a dang thing. For a few sweet moments I pretend Daddy and I are on a date. It’s why I always try to get a booth; sometimes even the staff don’t know where you’ve gone. It’s why sometimes I’ll let your crayons fall just so you can go under and fetch them.
Coping mechanisms, my friends; we’ve all got our own methods.