Okay, so. We always took the kids out to eat when they were little. Our theory was that in doing so, they would learn how to behave in public. Some outings were better than others.

See, one day, we were out for brunch with the kiddos, and TB, who may have been two-ish, was playing with his butter knife by pretending it was a “Light Saber”. He was also getting cranky because the food was taking approximately forever and he was hungry.

As time passed, TB became more and more agitated and his “Light Saber” movements became wilder and more erratic. This was when we chose to take the butter knife away from him before he hurt himself or someone at our table.

Big. Mistake.

See, playing “Light Saber” with his butter knife was the only thing keeping TB from going completely batshit crazy up in that restaurant. When we tried to take the knife away, he totally lost his shit. He began fussing and waving his knife around like a crazy person until the knife flew out of his chubby little hand….

And through the air….

Aaaaaand hit Jimmy Swaggart ( who was sitting at the NEXT table) In. The. Head.

(*Note: For those you not in the know, Jimmy Swaggart is a Baton Rouge based televangelist who, in the late 80′s-early 90′s, lost pretty much everything when he was caught with a prostitute. Twice.)

Anyways, we’re sitting there absolutely mortified and apologizing for TB’s assault upon Jimmy Swaggarts person. He was gracious enough about the whole thing. Saying he understood and it wasn’t a big deal.

We resumed waiting for our food ant trying to keep the kids entertained. TB grabbed a fork from the table and started using it as his NEW “Light Saber”. At this point, I was just happy he was entertained & relatively quiet so I let him have at it. TWH wasn’t quite as content with that decision. He anxiously asked “What if he throws it again?? “What if he hits Jimmy Swaggart in the head AGAIN?? Do you have a plan for THAT??”

I looked TWH straight in the face and said simply “Cry. I’m going to CRY.”

If it’s good enough for Jimmy, it’s good enough for me, dammit.

Fortunately, it didn’t come to that.  Our food arrived and TB was forced to turn his “Light Saber” back into a fork in order to feed himself.  We got lucky.  Me crying on cue is some ugly business y’all.

(*Note: When JS was caught with the SAME prostitute, AGAIN, he went on tee vee and stood there all bawlin’ & snottin’ & cryin’ asking for his flocks understanding & forgiveness. That was totally my plan.)