Today is my daughter Kerry’s 14th birthday.  In honor of her near total maturity, I present an article I wrote many years ago that’s bound to embarrass her.
 
Ah, my favorite family tradition!  Sitting down to a fabulous meal at a restaurant with my wife and kids to celebrate some special event – it could be Easter, graduation, a birthday.  Today the event is even more special because we’re sharing it with you, the reader.   Join me as we converse, as we laugh, as we share our poignant memories, as we-
 
“Daddy?”
 
Not now, honey, I’m talking with our guests.  Join me as we delight in the refined atmosphere of —
 
“Daddy?”
 
Kerry, you’re interrupting me.
 
“Daddy, I have to go potty.”
 
Excuse me a minute.  Kerry, the food just got here. We had to wait forty-five minutes for a table, twenty minutes for our menus, and an hour for our entree.  Why did you wait until now to tell me you had to go potty?
 
“Daddy, I’ve got to go really bad!!!”
 All right, fine.  Let’s get it over with.
 
As Kerry and I set out on our expedition to the restroom, I am reminded of family traditions – the kind of traditions that endure.  Truth be told, my wife Karen and I are not consistent with anything in our lives, from keeping regular schedules to paying the bills on time.  But our kids!  Our kids are meticulous, they are unswerving, they are implacable about one thing – they insist upon visiting public bathrooms at inopportune times.  It is our most consistently kept family tradition.
 
For some reason, neither Colin nor Kerry feel about public facilities the way most adults do.  To their adventurous souls, urinals are exotic shrines, stalls are tabernacles of mystery, blowing hand dryers are fire-breathing dragons, and even the very act of flushing becomes an adventure in man’s mastery over the brute dominion of nature.
          
At least this is what I surmise.  I’m usually busy while the kids are doing their thing, busy trying not to look too conspicuous hanging out in the men’s room.  I’ve learned a lot thereby, and am eager to offer other fathers my advice:
 
HOW TO BE INCONSPICUOUS IN THE MEN’S ROOM WHILE YOUR LITTLE GIRL IS IN THE STALLS
 
Don’t get bored and start to whistle or tap dance, despite the good acoustics.  Men are not supposed to be whistling or tap dancing in public restrooms, no matter what, and someone will walk in on you.
 
When someone does walk in on you, he will no doubt wonder why you are neither about your business nor at the sink.  You may easily avert his suspicions by knocking on the stall door and saying, “Are you done yet, honey?”  This is a way of telegraphing to late comers that you are celebrating an important family tradition and not some creep loitering in the john.   (A small detail: make sure that when you knock on the stall and say, “Are you done yet, honey?” that you have picked the right stall.  The last thing you want the newcomer to hear is some husky redneck call back, “Not yet, darlin’!”)
 
Speaking of  which, are you done yet, honey?
 
“No, Daddy.  Pee-pee’s sleeping!”
 
Oh, your pee-pee’s sleeping?  Well, that’s OK.  Let’s get back to the table before our dinner gets cold.
 
Now, then, where were we?  Ah, yes – eating out!  Fine dining, intelligent conversation, erudite moments –
 
“Daddy?”
 
Yes, Colin?
 
“Daddy, now I have to go.”
 
Oh, I almost forgot.  Rule Three:  Always take both kids at the same time.  In this way, the tradition goes much more smoothly.  Come on, son, let’s go!