When I was a kid, both my dad and my grandfather did this thing with a donkey in restaurants.

We all know that when children go out to eat, they inevitably start asking, "When is our food going to get here?" My brother and I, though astonishingly well-behaved, were no exception. So, when we would ask this, my dad or grandfather, whichever we were with, would say, "When the donkey wags his tail three times." This, of course, leads to unending questions about what the donkey is doing in the kitchen (washing dishes, catching ducks barking out orders), where he goes after work (home with the owner), and why we can't go see him (He's too busy to be messing around with a bunch of kids. He's got a kitchen to run!). Never did we ask why it had to be three times, why having livestock in the kitchen was not a health code violation, or what a donkey even had to do with food preparation.

So, naturally, when Henry first asked the age old "When is our food going to get here?" question, I quickly responded with, "When the donkey wags his tail three times." Patrick looked at me like I was off my rocker. As I explained it to them, I saw that unmistakeable (irresistible) twinkle in Patrick's eye. You see, he is a sucker for absurdity (ahem), so he jumped on (off) this rocker with me in no time. So apparently, my grandfather started it when my dad was a kid, and it has trickled down through the generations. (Aunts, did/do you do this?) In April, we were in Daytona with my grandparents, and while at a Mexican restaurant, referred to the donkey (burro). I think my grandfather was quite pleased. Especially when I informed the kids that Great Poppop knows all about the donkey, they are old friends after all, and to direct all further questions to him - Great Poppop, not the donkey.

That's the thing about parenting, you never know what's going to stick.