sit. stay.

We had fun at our last show of the year. A small, church show with really fine work for sale and a organization that fed and pampered us and even toasted at the end with a selection of fine wines. By that time I knew I would not be cooking that night. My still-broken foot was throbbing and my back hurt from sitting in a folding chair all day. Plus, the cast that was in place to immobilize the foot, gave new reason for my bad knee to act up.

I am not telling you this to get sympathy. I am setting the stage for what followed.

Russell dropped me off at the door of one of the neighborhood's most popular restaurants and I hobbled in to give our name to the keeper of the gate. There were people waiting, but it looked like a whole lot of people in 2 or 3 groups. Maybe the wait would not be horrible. Or so I hoped, because there was no place to sit. The bench was packed end to end with what appeared to be one family. Mom at one end, Dad at the other, a flock of children between them. The kids ranged from about 10 to 17 and all were engrossed in one form of electronic amusement or another. Except for one boy who was actually reading a book! Wonder of wonders.

I took this picture with my phone. Look at what it shows. All those feet, none of them in a cast. Most of them belonging to young kids, the rest to their parental units. I looked in the bar for an empty stool. No luck. I leaned against the end of the bench, but there was really no relief there. Finally, I perched on the edge of a windowsill directly across from the sitters. SInce the windowsill was maybe 3 inches wide and my butt is at least 2 inches bigger than that, it wasn't much help. But it allowed me the opportunity to lean back a bit and extend my casted leg out towards the sitters.

You see, it was incredible to me that not one of them was going to offer me a seat on that bench.

I stared down the Dad who was mesmerized by my "boot" because he kept staring at it. The Mom ignored me, apparently invested emotionally in the video game the middle child was playing.

Now, I don't know about you, but if I was 40 years old, healthy, uninjured, sitting on a bench, and a person hobbling about in a walking cast was standing across from me looking pained, it would be impossible for me to keep sitting there. Wouldn't you hop up and say, oh, golly,what did you do to your leg? Here, take this seat.

Of course you would.

Not this crew. And the lesson to the kids? I guess it was that if you're lucky enough to be sitting down, don't let anyone guilt you into making you stand? They will most likely grow up to be the people who never let anyone into a line of traffic, who bring 47 items into the 10 or less line, who never hold the door open for anyone.

The wait turned out to be shorter than I feared, the food was excellent and I even treated myself to a glass of wine. The sitters didn't ruin my night, they made me grateful for the cushy booth, the perfect salmon and the knowledge that our kids would never sit while an injured person stood before them.

Right, kids?