Manner Matters

Family Update

Although we have been working for several years on our son’s table manners, there seems to have been a gap in the flow of instruction somewhere between our mouths and his ears. As a result, our dinner discussions frequently include admonitions about what is considered proper etiquette – mostly directed at our four-year-old son. If you were a fly on the wall in our trailer, you would hear some of the following comments. That is, if Abigail didn’t see you first and begin screaming frantically that there was a bug in the house.

“Chew with your lips together, please.”

“Don’t comb your hair with your fork.”

“Take smaller bites, good grief!”

“Slow down! No one is going to take your food away, unless, of course, you keep eating like that!”

“Chew with your lips together, please.”

“You know, you wouldn’t choke on your drink if you would slow down.”

“Please don’t blow your food OFF of your plate!”

“Do NOT wipe your hands on the chair – use the napkin sitting right in front of you!”

“Don’t wave your fork around in the air. You are going to poke out your sister’s eye!”

“Quit talking and eat!”

“Chew with your lips together, please.”

“Move your cup away from the edge of the table.”

“You know, you wouldn’t drop so much food on the table if your plate was in the same zip code as your mouth.”

“Don’t touch the curtains!”

“Do not stick your fork and spoon in your mouth at the same time!”

“Please only blow on your own food!”

“Chew with your lips together, please”

“Stop roaring at the birds outside – they can’t hear you. You are only disturbing the other diners.” (This at a restaurant)

“Do not talk with food in your mouth!”

As exasperating as it is at times, I will say that he does manage to do some things correctly. Paul was laughing at the table the other day because of the multitude of instruction I was spouting. I turned to him, and, in an effort to relieve myself of the feeling that all I had done was criticize table manners, commented that although I had given Josiah so many reminders, there was one thing I did not have to tell him. “Oh? What’s that?” Paul asked.

“At least he doesn’t have his elbows on the table!”

At this juncture of the conversation, Paul hastily removed his elbows from the table and with a guilty look finished his meal. So much for positive reinforcement. Perhaps one day it will sink in, but for the present, I will have to be content to sound like a broken record.