You Always Have a Story with You
I don’t like going out to eat. It's not that I don't like to eat - I do. It's not that I love cooking - I don't. It's that with little children, a sit down dinner at a restaurant is only just below the joy of having a crocodile nibble each of your toes slowly as an appetizer rather than just gobbling you up in one bite. If you're one of those people who believe children should be seen and not heard, then you would not want to dine with our family. They are nice kids and oh so delightful. But even the most pleasant of children cannot sit still for 70 minutes. (I saw one try once, but his insides kept jiggling so much he finally imploded. I could barely finish my ice cream after seeing that. ) At an Irish pub the other night, I was burning quickly through my usual bag of tricks. They colored, emptied my purse contents, and made a condiment tower. The girls even explored the restaurant's antiques, pondered how to access the apps on an old