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| Well . . . at least they look nice . . . |
Our three boys, ages 2.5 to 5 were in various stages of
learning ‘manners’.
Most importantly: saying ‘Please excuse me’ following a
hiccup or sneeze.
Or anything involving the nearly constant passage of small
amounts of gas.
Our success rate was . . . iffy.
Mostly, anything that resembled a bodily function was
considered the most hilarious of occurrences and the cause for loud laughter
and attempts at re-creation.
Sigh.
But we were nothing if not persistent.
Because it was important.
Finally, our efforts and tenacity yielded some rewards.
Small, I admit, but encouraging.
We were walking down the local mall.
Intent on finding . . . something important.
Our eldest son was just ahead of us, walking independently on
his own.
Second son had a firm grip on my hand.
Third son was toddling along at his father’s side, his 2.5
year-old legs moving as fast as they could to keep up.
Suddenly, he stopped and stared up at his father.
“What’s the matter, son?”
His eyes went wide.
Then he sneezed.
Three times.
In quick succession.
He looked over at me and his little face lit up.
My heart stopped.
Was one of my sons actually going to prove to me that my time
and efforts to instil manners had not gone entirely unnoticed?
“Ooo!” he said. “Three ‘scuse me’s!”
Well, we were part-way there.
