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I remember when I was little.
There was a woman, Mrs. Reed, who lived a few doors down from my dad.
I used to play in her house, and her back yard.
Some of my fondest memories of my childhood are in the company of that dear sweet lady.
Mrs. Reed had invited myself and my dad over for dinner one night.
She gave me a brief lesson on manners.
I still remember the words today.
A few pointers that she gave me are:
- You never say you don't like the food.
- Even if you don't like what they have prepared, eat it.
- Never spit food out onto your plate.
- You do not start eating until everyone has been served.
A week ago my little family was invited over to a friend's house for dinner.
Remembering the advice of Mrs. Reed I gave my oldest son a run down of how to act.
Thinking that I was prepared to at least have my oldest son behave we went to dinner.
Oh how I was wrong.
I won't give you all of the brutal details.
Just the one that has stuck out.
The kids were getting drinks for their dinner.
'Trouble Maker' looks in the fridge with the other kids.
Out of no where says,
'OH, I can't have apple juice, it gives me diaherra'
*FACEPALM*
Then he proceeds to repeat himself two or three times!!!!
We all had a good laugh about it.
I guess I forgot to cover that,
You don't talk about your bathroom business while in some one's house.
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