I ran across these pictures as I was looking at the pictures my mom took while we were there for our short visit over Thanksgiving.  While we were gone for the wedding rehearsal in Plover, the kids stayed with Gramma in Watertown.  Apparently one of the activities for the evening was icing cookies.  Personally I am proud of my children.  They are trying to keep their knives clean.  I have been told that your tongue is the cleanest part of your body.  Well then, shouldn’t you be able to clean off the knife with your tongue. 

I realize there is much debate concerning this type of behavior.  I can just say, they do not learn this from their mother.  Linda has encouraged me on a few occasions to not dip things back into containers after having eaten off of them.  For example . . . I love taking a bite of a red baked potatoe with a bit of butter on my fork.  After having eaten one bite, I will take a little more butter and another bite of my potatoe.  It seems practical to me, but a little offensive to others.  Let me think . . .

• dunking a hotdog in the mayonaise
• drinking from the milk carton
• eating out of the ice cream bucket
• dipping veggies into the dip over and over
• drinking out of Gary’s cup (this is practical, I take a drink of his drink and he won’t drink anymore, so I don’t have to get up to get another drink.  I can just finish his.)

While I understand there are some things I need to work, my boys are by far worse . . . Ryan and Dakota use food as utensils for condiments.  They will take fries and dunk them in ketchup so they can suck the ketchup off the fry.  Then they proceed to dunk the same fry in for some more ketchup.  (I wonder where they get there love of ketchup.) 

Spencer at some point was bothered by Molly eating something of his and he mentioned that he didn’t want her germs.  I told him that we all have the same germs in our family and it doesn’t really matter.  I think he bought it.  The discussion spiraled into a how Linda wouldn’t have the same germs as me since we are from separate families.  My explanation for how I think we do have the same germs was not greatly appreciated by our children.  (Sometimes parts of my stories are what I thought during those times not what was actually said . . . I think this might be one of those instances.)  Apparently, according to these pictures, papa and gramma have the same germs as well.  If they didn’t before this night they probably did afterwards.

Anyways, I’ll continue to work on my etiquette for the sake of Linda and my kids.  I’m sure my mom would have appreciated such sensitivity as I was growing up.