MISS MANNERS

Last weekend Big Bore and I dined out with Big Sis, her husband Ken, and my 9-year-old great nephew Luke, who’d had a molar yanked out by the dentist the day before and was none too happy that he couldn’t partake in the complimentary chips and salsa laid before us on the table.

“If you get a piece of chip in that empty tooth hole, you’ll go ballistic,” we all warned him, as we chowed down in front of him.

I think we'd probably been there/done that at a younger point in our lives and truly wanted to spare him the agony. So Luke begrudgingly sat, watching the rest of us shove in the chips, until his soft food arrived.

Mid-meal, at a break in the conversation, Big Sis leaned over to him and, this time, quietly said, “Get your elbows off the table, Luke.” She is an example of all that is good and refined. I say that without sarcasm. She is a true angel. Luke obeyed, without comment, and went on eating.

Now what was slightly amusing, is that I immediately noticed where my own elbows were, and the right one was leaning right smack on the table. I quickly removed the offending arm, not saying a word, and continued shoving down my chicken fajita salad.

After we left the restaurant, in separate vehicles, Big Bore said to me, laughing, “Did you notice what happened when your sister told Luke to take his elbows off the table?”

“Yeah, I had my right elbow resting on the table and I removed it!”

“So did Ken and I,” he laughed.

Seems like the entire table, except for Sis, was in bad manners position, but poor Luke had to take the heat for all of us slovenly grown-ups. Fortunately, he didn’t take notice and protest, “Well, Aunt Nancy and Jeff and Grandpa have their elbows on the table, too!” --Which might have resulted in a food fight.

Big Sis was an elementary school teacher before retirement, and I suspect that, “Elbows off the table!” was her mantra during lunch period for so many decades that it’s just become second nature to her. It’s hard to break old habits. Even the good ones.