Emily Who?

Well I think catching up with two months of blogging in one post has rejuvenated my creative process -- either that or I am desperately looking for an excuse to take a mental break from the think/produce intensive three-day weekend I have planned. Actually, even aside from putting off the mental gymnastics, I realized yesterday I am thinking like a blogger again. Here is the scene:



We took advantage of a small window of time and scooted out to Doran Beach for an overnight get away -- one last summer outing before school begins Monday. We snagged a lovely campsite and enjoyed a delightful family time complete with walks on the beach, skim & boogie boarding, barbecued steak, and a game of cards. As a perfect end to our seaside junket, we stopped off at Lucas Wharf on our way home for clam chowder and fish & chips.

It was when I looked across the table and noticed Michelle gnawing away on an enormous slice of french bread that I felt the need to introduce a little Emily Post. I then glanced at Catie and realized she was working on a rather large piece herself. "Kids," I told them, sure they would be grateful for the enlightening I was about to offer, "it isn't polite to eat a large piece of bread like that. You are really supposed to break off a small piece from the larger one you have taken and butter only the small piece. After you eat the small piece, you can take another small piece from your larger piece and butter it for eating." Scott backed me up on this tidbit of refinement. Unfortunately, the younger generation was far from gratefully receiving this genteel exhortation.

"That's stupid." Johnny didn't leave us any doubt about his thoughts.

"That's ridiculous -- it doesn't make any sense." Catie agreed.

Michelle, while not liking it any more that the other two, seemed to be saving her energy for the hamburger she'd ordered rather than throwing herself as wholeheartedly into the disparaging of nonsensical manners. Johnny and Catie, however, had just begun. They proceeded to give all the practical reasons their critically thinking minds could come up with for why this was not only unnecessary but downright irritating as well.

Finally I threw in the towel and told them, "Okay, embarrass yourselves someday if you'd like, but just make sure to tell people your mother told you what was the right thing to do."

"Oh sure, she told me when I was 17." Johnny commented.

Hmmm, I could see my parenting was not going to emerge well from this one. This is when my blogger mind started to kick in. "Hey, maybe this would make an entertaining post." Once again offer a couple of people an opportunity to peek into my world and feel grateful for their own!

As my older two continued to mock the concept of the small pieces of bread, Catie began cutting her french fries into minute pieces and eating them with a fork, saying, "This is the polite way to eat french fries." Johnny then bemoaned the fact he did not have a tiny glass to pour some of his water in to drink a small thimbleful at a time.

It was a sad hour for Emily Post. My kid's response: Emily who?