Thursday, August 18, 2011

Use Your Manners

Before we go to an event (party, shower, wedding, etc.), I try to go over my expectations for the kids. It helps the most if I do it RIGHT before, but if it's really big (like a wedding at a fancy country club) I will practice more than once the week before. Recently, we were invited to a graduation party for our neighbor's daughter. They're the best neighbors and their daughters just love our kids. We dog-sit for them whenever they go out of town (which the kids LOVE to do). In general, we really like their whole family. However, we were worried about taking our kids to a party like this where they were likely to be the only small children in a group of (mostly) strangers so we went over "The Rules" on manners just before we left:

What do you say when you want something? "May I have some, please?"

Do we use potty words when we're eating? "NO, Mommy!" *giggles*

What do we say when we try something that we DON'T like? "It's not my favorite..." This one threw me for a loop. I would have said maybe, "No, thank you." but I figured this could work. And then I started thinking...a few days before I had made a soup and, per usual, everyone was required to at least try it. Youngest Boy had replied with, "You know, Mommy, it's not my favorite..." {SIGH} *******


Completely unrelated, but I wanted to post about this little tidbit because I find it unbelievably puzzling. Last week during Oldest Boy's cross country practice I had the opportunity to go for a run all by myself. The little kids were home with Daddy and I had planned to just circle around the school area until I reached my goal. As I'm running on one of the side streets I came up behind a walker. She was dressed for exercise. And she was holding a book at arm's length and just above chin-level. Now that would have been strange enough, but she was also smoking a cigarette. I.don't.get.it. The only thing missing was a hat with straws that holds two beers!


1 comment:

Rocket Ma'am said...

Reminds me of an old-as-dirt 1st class petty officer I knew. One day I was driving on base, and I saw him shuffling along the side of the road, his insulated coffee mug in hand (I think it may have been permanently attached) and cigarette puffing between his lips. I pulled up, rolled down my window and asked if he needed a ride, and without even taking the cancer stick out of his mouth, he replied he was running his PRT, which is a semi-annual fitness test involving a 1.5 mi run. I still wonder if he did the push-ups and sit-ups the smoke and joe in place.