Quiet!

A typical Taylor dinner is characterized by noise. We have five people who have a lot to say and the volume with which to say it. To add to the activity tonight, Everett is trying to be a "big kid" and sit on the bench with Darla and Hudson instead of strapped into his booster seat. While I understand the desire to be big, he lacks impulse control and focus. Regardless, we let him try and then move him to the booster when he's not staying put.

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.