We went out to lunch today to meet a friend from church one last time before we leave the country. Eating out is fun, but it’s also an exercise in juggling my own food, feeding bits to the baby, glaring at those who take huge bites of food and then proceed to chew those bites with their mouths wide open, directing others who can’t seem to sit and eat at the same time . . . you get the picture. So we were actually having a pretty relaxing, enjoyable lunch. Baby was in lemon heaven, the boys were eating and coloring, and Josh and I were enjoying grown-up talk. Then Caleb accidently knocked his (plastic) cup of ice off the table, spilling it all over the floor. Without prompting, he got down on the floor and picked up every single piece of ice and put it back in the cup and wiped up the water off the floor with his napkin. I was so proud. I gave myself a silent pat on the back, “My boys are going to grow up to be well mannered men who know how to eat in public. Whew!” And then, out of the corner of my eye, I see Caleb eating the ice he had just picked up off the floor. Our friend was in the middle of a story and not wanting to interrupt (and really, I didn’t want anyone else to know that I had a kid who would actually eat off the floor), I started shooting crazy eyed glares and willing him to look up at me so he could catch my “whatareyoudoingyoucrazykid” look. No luck. My baby boy continued to happily suck away on floor ice. *sigh* Let’s just hope the folks at Islands pride themselves on really clean floors.