Table mensches

At 5:30, I was shoring up the kids with a substantial snack of peanut butter, apples, raisins, and milk, because although we were hurrying off to a dinner event, the dinner itself was not going to be until after 7pm.  Danny called to ask if one of us adults wanted to go with him to the very scary "Nightmare at Beaver Lake" event (maybe tomorrow), and while I was in the other room chatting with him, Aaron scooped up his gob of peanut butter and smeared it all over his hands like a lotion.  I got back to the dining room to find him throwing handfuls of milk at Jordan with his peanut-butter-covered paws.  Both were laughing their heads off.  

I was furious and rushed and I could have killed them both, but I have been practicing my skills of describing the problem lately, so I said:

"There is peanut butter ALL OVER AARON'S HANDS!  And there is milk on the TABLE, the FLOOR, and maybe even the WALL!  ALL of that needs to be CLEANED UP!  And if any peanut butter gets on the furniture I am going to SCREAM!"

(My favorite parent gurus do not recommend that you pretend to be calm when you're not; on the contrary, better to express your anger than bottle it up, as long as you can do it without insult.  And I was pretty angry.)

I walked out of the room.  And what do you know:  Jordan and Aaron both instantly hopped up and started cleaning like crazy.  Jordan cleaned up every bit of mess in the dining room (the thrown milk, the smeared peanut butter); Aaron washed his hands, which was a big job, but one that he mostly succeeded at.  Okay, in getting himself up to the sink he got peanut butter on the floor, the stool, the faucet, and the soap bottle, but his effort was serious and genuine.  I was impressed.

The dinner event was a Shabbat dinner for new Temple members.  As the membership chair (don't even ask me how I got into this) I was a "table captain," aka "table mensch," responsible for helping new families enjoy themselves and get their questions answered if they had any.  Dale and I had a great time chatting with the other family at our table, but the biggest mensch was Jordan:  On being introduced to the only other kid at the table, an 8-year-old girl, he instantly changed seats to be next to her and engaged her in animated conversation about topics of mutual interest.  (Magic Treehouse and Silly Bandz, from what I gathered.)  His ease in making new friends is a real gift.