Are These My Children

I'm not a huge fan of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and that's about all we had in the house for lunch today.  But the postman came to my rescue by delivering a handsome page of Jersey Mike's coupons right into my mailbox.  Bless him.  So I announced to my brood that we would be heading out of the house to eat lunch.  Silly me, I actually thought they would appreciate something other than mooshy pb&j's.  Daniel announces that he NEEDS Chinese food and Silas begins to pitch a fit because he absolutely hates Jersey Mike's and he will NOT eat there.

Since I already had my heart set on a great big sub sandwich dripping with red wine vinegar and oozing with mayo, I somehow managed to bribe them with promises of a trip to Wal-mart to browse the Halloween costumes, if they could just please cooperate and not kill each other at lunch.  So I hesitantly herd them into the restaurant.  We actually had a very enjoyable lunch.  No one fought over the drink or tried to steal anyone else's chips.  We actually enjoyed one another's company.

While we were sitting there eating and discussing what everyone wants to be for Halloween, a very well-groomed lady approached our table. 

"Are all of these children yours?"  she asks me. 

Why does that question always include the word "all" when addressed to me?

I reply with an affirmative.


"They are the sweetest, most well-behaved children I have ever seen," she beams at me.  Then she hands me a bag telling me to hand out it's contents at my discretion.  She had bought us all cookies!  And there is nothing that says "job well done" quite like a sweet sugary cookie.  Yum.