The Pest

I have always tried to enforce table manners with Sam and Jake. I don't ask much - sit forward in your seat, use your fork, ask to be excused, take your plate to the kitchen. But nearly every time Sam sits down to eat, I have to remind him several times to sit in his chair. Otherwise, he's half in, half out, leaning on one toe, resting on one cheek. For some reason this bothers me. It probably wouldn't under normal circumstances, but when you ask 1,460 times ... well, it gets annoying.

Last night at dinner was no exception. After I'd asked him the second time, I tried another approach.

"Sam, why do I have to remind you several times during each meal to sit properly in your seat? It has really become a pet peeve of mine."

"What's a pet peeve?" he asked.

"Well, it's something that may not bother other people but bothers you a lot. And it could be very small. Do you have a pet peeve?" I asked him.

"Jake," he said.

Not the answer I was looking for, but a good answer nonetheless.