Me (The Daddy)
The Bean: Age 7
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife
The Buffett Puppy
Oh, the things we wish we could say...
For some reason, we went to a restaurant on a school night. We tend to avoid doing this because the DW works pretty long hours and The Bean and The Butterfly still insist on the full battery of computer time, television programs and lullabies.
But there we were awaiting appetizers and chocolate milks to be delivered to our table.
We weren't exactly getting world class service.
The Bean's Sprite tasted a lot like water. This is because it was water. So our waiter vanished from our view and returned utterly astonished that the offending H20 had not miraculously transformed to Sprite.
Water to wine I'll buy. But I'm pretty sure Jesus didn't do a lot with carbonated beverages.
The Butterfly let her opinion known. "He's not paying attention," she said. She didn't exactly whisper.
"Shhh!" said the DW.
"Why?" asked The Butterfly.
"But he is not paying attention."
"It's still impolite. What if he hears you and feels bad?"
"He won't hear me because he's not paying attention."
Game. Set. Match.