He made it through the meal (barely) and then S. grabbed the Bible for our family devotional. As S. was reading I noticed Everett kicking Hudson under the table. S. gave a stern, "Everett. Quiet." Soon Everett was poking Hudson. "EVERETT! Enough. Quiet!" Within seconds he was all out smothering and- was that a lick?!- getting removed from the bench.
The booster didn't go much better because it triggered the screaming. S. in between verses, "EVERETT CLIFFORD! No screaming. Quiet."
Trying to help S. out as he was determined to get through the chapter, I pulled Everett onto my lap. Squirming and giggling, the distractions continued. I assume S. finished the chapter because he set the Bible down and excused three very wiggly children.
We were thankful they were eager to go play so we could have a few minutes to actually look at each other over sippy cups and clumps of rice. Just as we were about to begin conversation, the patter of toddler feet returned to the kitchen. Everett picked up the Bible, plunked down on the bench, and opened it. He very seriously furrowed his brow at S. and said firmly, "Quiet Daddy. Bible."
Reverently, he turned the pages.
Then he sat. Quietly.