At dinner last night in a local restaurant we sat at a table almost completely surrounded by children under the age of three.
I observed an interesting phenomenon about parenting that I apparently forgot.
Parents think their children, no matter what they are doing in public, are the most precious, the most adorable, the smartest children that ever lived. Several of these precious ones ran amok from table to table, while smiling parents laughed and looked at other customers for validation of their child's superiority.
I noticed that those people who looked "grandparently" responded much better than we did.
"She's so cute. How old is she?" said the plump sixty-something woman at the next table, as little Mikala ran by, slamming into customer chairs.
Back at the parent's table. "Look, honey, little Welden has just set his hair on fire! Isn't he cute?"
I seem to have completely blocked out the years 1990 to 1995 when my child was a pre-schooler. Was there bad behavior? Why don't I remember this? Or maybe, is it possible that he was indeed the most precious, the most adorable, the smartest child who ever lived?