Paternal Pride

So.  We're sitting in McDonald's tonight...

Let's just stop right there.

We are in McDonald's.  Runner-up ruler of the Fast Food World.

Yes, we are terrible parents who feed our kids that stuff.  It didn't kill us.

Innyhoo...

Tonight, we let loose the reins a bit and let the kids have soda.  Now, before you freak about caffeine and children and Mexican jumping beans and stuff, the Fries had their choice of Sprite, Orange Hi-C, or a Sprite-C cocktail.  (Medium tried to get away with Sprite and Barq's root beer, but that didn't fly.)

We're sitting at a trapezoid table, Hubby, Medium and Large on the one side, and Small and I on the other.

We're in something of a hurry.

Tonight is Baccalaureate at the high school, and seeing as Hubby is one of four youth pastors in our little town (we have more churches than bars), and seeing as it was his idea (after being snowballed into planning it alone last year) for all four of them to work together, and seeing as he was helping my cousin DP (youth pastor at the Nazarene church in town) emcee, he kinda had to be at the high school early.

Fast food + carbonated soft drinks + eating quickly = Hubby has a "secret" to tell one of the kids.

He motions Medium over.  "I've got something to tell you."

Medium kneels on the bench, and Hubby holds up his right hand, like he's hiding what he's about to say...and then he belches right into Medium's face.

"I'm gonna gitchoo back!" she vows.

Not five minutes later, she's on her feet, leaning into Hubby's face, and belching right on cue.

Unwilling to be outdone by her twin, Small jumps up from her seat next to me, runs to Hubby's other side, and lets out an incredibly fake burp...and giggles.

Medium has retreated now, and Hubby has caught the giggles.

He looks over at me and pretends to wipe his eyes.

He looks at Medium, and then back at me.

He sniffs.

He holds one hand dramatically to his chest.

"It's...it's just such a moment of parental pride!"