Every time someone compliments me on my children's behavior, or comments on how they are such nice kids, I have to bite my tongue lest I blurt out something negative to counterbalance what feels like unwarranted praise for my yahoos. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm delighted when they manage to hold it together in public and inspire people to react positively. In fact, it is more often than not these days that my kids are well-behaved in public. I'm rarely reduced to hissing under my breath like a leaking tire in an attempt to bring a wayward child back from the brink of all-out impropriety. It still happens, oh yes. But not as often as it used to.

Which is why I try to bite my tongue and accept the congratulations on my well-raised children with a modicum of dignity, instead of going "Oh yeah? You should have seen this morning when all three kids turned on each other like a pack of savage beasts."

I wouldn't say that my sterling example of righteous living has had the kind of impact I'm being given credit for. But we know how to have a good time. Witness:

The Contraband Glass Bottle Experiment:

We have a swimming pool in our neighborhood, and the rules posted at the swimming pool forbid any glass containers in the area. These same rules also forbid cutoffs and things like skateboards - which for the most part, people honor, with the exception of those kids a year ago who jumped their bikes into the deep-end of the pool, hooting like loons. As no one was at the pool at the time, no one was hurt, nothing was damaged, and after my husband and I roundly scolded and chased the kids from the pool, we had a good laugh. But for lack of parental supervision and ready access to both the pool key and bikes, those could have been my kids. Or me. I'm just saying.

So, the rules. Right. We respect the rules, especially the sensible ones like No Glass. Except for last week, when my kids asked if they could have that blue cream soda for a special treat at the pool, and I said yes. When I realized it was in glass bottles, I fished a bottle opener out of my glove box (what? you don't have a bottle opener in your car?) and slipped it into the pool bag with the towels cushioning the tell-tale clinking noise of the glass bottles.

I sternly told the kids that we were Doing Wrong and that the rule was designed to keep broken glass from the pool area, and so I would sit on the grass with the bottles and keep them within my protective grasp at all time, and also near enough to the metal fence that if the pool lady showed up, I could quickly poke the bottles through the fence and be all NO, THEY ARE NOT IN THE POOL AREA. That was the general plan.

The kids swam for a good hour, and then decided it was Contraband Glass Bottle Soda Time. One at a time, I opened the bottles, and handed them over.

I told the kids that they should conceal the bottles (just in case) so they wrapped them in a shirt:

Because you know that's not suspicious or anything.

No, they aren't going to guess anything is up over here.

Doo dee doo dee doooooo.

So, what I'm saying here is that while they may be learning to demonstrate good social skills, they aren't necessarily learning it from me.