"A baby is an alimentary canal with a loud voice at one end and no responsibility at the other. "
Several evenings ago, there was a family dinner at my in-law's house. My wife and I attended, along with my wife's younger brother, his wife and two daughters, ages... um... somewhere between four and eight... or something close to that. Also on the guest list were my wife's cousin, her husband and two young sons, both in the approximate age range of my nieces. My thirty-year-old niece was there too, but since she is relatively well-behaved and doesn't fit into the "child" category anymore, she will merit merely
this mention in the story.
Dinner proceeded like most dinners, with cross-table conversation punctuated by clinking glasses, rattling flatware and my father-in-law rolling his eyes in exasperation and saying, "I can't hear you." As usual, the children picked, uninterested, at their meals and bolted from the table early while the adults lingered over their plates. My eldest niece (hmmm!
Two mentions!) stealthily began the preliminary clearing of the table to ready it for dessert. The living room, adjacent to the dining room, came alive with the unruly loudness of four rambunctious young cousins. The noise settled slightly after a visit by one of the parents — impatiently prompted by my father-in-law. Still, the muffled sounds of children's voices could be heard, though no actual words could be discerned.