There are some pretty high stress moments you experience as a parent. Starting with having the kid in the first place, and on to first days of school, first trips to urgent care, and the ever present helping with math homework – there is almost always something your kids are doing to add at least a little bit of stress to your day. For me, going out to eat can be a bit stressful. It has definitely gotten better as the kids have gotten older. I don’t remember the last time I had to carry a kid on the verge of a meltdown out of a restaurant, or worried that if the food didn’t come soon one of my children would explode, which I think are situations all parents see coming. But life with kids is always bringing something new, and I just discovered a source of meal-time stress that I never anticipated – eating at a table next to your pastor.
In a mostly empty cafe, naturally my kids chose to pick a table right next to somebody. Because that is what anybody who was clearly there to get a little bit of quiet and get some work done wants – to be next to children who are almost certainly going to argue over who sits where, and who was being rude, and who keeps bumping the table. Though this wasn’t just somebody, this was the senior pastor at our church. A local celebrity in my children’s eyes, who they naturally pointed out to us in not-so-whispered whispers. Why is that a child’s whisper as two distinctly different volume settings? It is either unintelligible, or somehow louder than their normal speaking voice, but in a lower register. Either way, as soon as we sat down I got a sense of dread that my kids were going to impose themselves all over a nice man’s peaceful cup of coffee. I felt a bit sorry for him. I’d be willing to bet he was here to get out of the house for an hour to himself for some quiet focus away from his own kids. I do the same thing. I’m writing this from a coffee shop right now because my kids don’t allow me the time to sit and type without asking when its their turn to use the computer. Anyway, his quiet morning was going to get a bit louder, and my only thought was, “please don’t let us end up as an anecdote in a sermon.”
I could just see it, the next time he spoke on the fruits of the spirit, he’d have a funny little sorry about patience. Perhaps a real world example to add to a story about the dangers of sparing the rod. Almost certainly, we wouldn’t leave a positive impression of a well behaved family who could sit still long enough for a quick prayer before eating. Not that we prayed just because we were pastor adjacent, but it felt like an occasion to pray for something more profound than being grateful for the size of the chocolate chips in the muffins. Though I will say, the quality of the muffin could have been a saving grace. My kids are baked good snobs, and it wouldn’t be out of the question for one of them to be reduced to tears if the muffin didn’t match their quality expectations.
I have to say, the kids were as good as they realistically could be. We made pleasant conversation. Not a temper was flared nor an outburst had. I enjoyed an egg sandwich as much as one could while eating it under the watchful eyes of Pastor T.J. Eckleburg. Still, it was oddly stressful. Kind of like fixing something around the house when your own dad is there. You know what you’re doing. You’ve done this countless times before. But, this time you really want to do a good job without accidentally swearing in front of the kids.
And I wonder, what does it matter who I am making a parental impression on? What if we were sitting next to a total stranger? Would I have been fine if my kids were less well behaved? The standard is the standard, is it not? It probably should be, but that just isn’t human nature. It mattered more to me to show myself to be a good father in that moment. Not that I wanted, needed, or expected some seal of approval. Though best case scenario a silent nod of approval, one dad to another, would have been nice. But again, couldn’t that come from anybody my family happens to impose ourselves on in a public space?
I know that we make impressions, good or bad, on the people around us. When my kids were much smaller, a mystery restaurant patron noticed our young family and paid for our breakfast. Maybe it was because we were just such an adorable family, maybe it was because he looked me and thought, that poor bastard doesn’t know what he’s up against. It’s a toss up. Either way, we made an impression on him without trying. So how do we decide when to try or not?
I mean, yes, we should always try to make a good impression to those around us. Not just to project our good qualities, but to actually live them and naturally put out those vibes. It is like being cool. When somebody really is cool, they aren’t trying to project being cool, they just are. You think Matthew McConaughey tries to be cool? Dude just is. But am I just a good parent? When we walk into a room, do people notice and think, “what a nice family.” Or perhaps more important, do they think that when we leave a room?
We are going to make an impression either way, so might as well make it a good one. Like anything else, it takes practice. Something you do all the time, not just in circumstances when you really want to make a good impression. Perhaps the next time we are eating a normal dinner at home, I’ll pretend the pastor is next to us preparing his notes for his next teaching. Or Matthew McConaughey just being a dude. Good practice either way.
I Think Therefore I Dad 