Last night we ordered take out. We grabbed a stack of napkins next to the cash register; apparently, you were the last one in the stack. My children are usually messy eaters, but last night was an exception. They sat properly at the table, waved their forks and spoons through their food in correct, symmetrical patterns, sipped their beverages from their cups without a sound, and dabbed their mouths thoughtfully with their napkins. We were so proud of them when they thanked us for the meal, excused themselves from the table, cleared their plates, glasses and silverware, and retired in single file up the stairs.
I assure you this is rare, so I hope you’ll be able to forgive us for leaving you on the counter while we dined, drank and chuckled over the day’s events as if we were Roy Scheider’s angelic little family in Jaws. I realize how awkward it must have been for you sitting there amongst the clutter of opened mail, pocket change and the accidental smears of yesterday’s peanut butter + jelly sandwiches, and for that I owe you an apology. I promise that you will be our privileged guest tonight for sloppy joes.