We took the kids to El Porton for dinner Saturday night. We had spent a long day together, with lots of arguing and public displays of insubordination. We decided to risk dinner out, however, because we needed something to carry us over the hump and deliver us to bedtime.
Our waiter appeared to be new (to El Porton, certainly- to America, probably) but he still managed to provide sufficient, if stilted, service. It certainly wasn't his fault that, by the end of the meal, Connor was enthusiastically testing the limits of the term "inside voice" while I was physically restraining Chloe (who wanted to either crawl under the table or stand on the booth). He stopped our table, looked at the mess of food, dirty napkins, and toys scattered across the table, hesitated as he watched me struggle with Chloe, and then timidly asked,
"Is everything else alright?"
School Stories: Missing Class
5 years ago
1 comment:
Did you teach him some creative English in your reply?
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