Last night, Karyn was supping on lobster with her father, so I gave Cameron the choice as to where he and I'd go to eat for supper. He, of course, chose Wendys.
Anyway, we were sitting there eating, and the table behind us was occupied by a mother, father and little girl. Sometime into our meal, the girl begins to whine, which turns into sobs. The mother tells her to stop it. She doesn't. More whining crying. The father sternly (as fathers are wont to do) advises the girl to smarten up. She doesn't. Even more whining and crying. It is unclear as to what is troubling the girl, but my impression is that it was something trivial.
A couple more protestations and warnings from the parents fall on the girl's deaf ears (no, she wasn't really deaf. It's an expression...).
Then this, from the father: "do you want to go to the car? I'll take you to the car. Okay, let's go", followed by inactive muscles that make no effort to go to the car.
And then, it came. From the mother. The emptiest, most desperate warning in so many parents' litany of threats. The statement that is so absurdly impossible to conceive that even the dullest, youngest child doesn't fall for it: "Okay, if you don't stop crying, we'll never eat here, ever again!"
Of course, she doesn't stop crying. Because she sees her parents, heavier than the sun. She sees them scoff down the double burgers with cheese, and Mega-Biggie Size Fries and the Gargantuan Pop. She sees them inhale their food, and oh so love it.
She is not dumb. So she continues to cry.
For the record, I don't believe I've ever made that particular threat to Cameron. Never promise something you cannot deliver. That's my motto.