Читать книгу The Yummy Mummy’s Family Handbook - Liz Fraser - Страница 56

I am a huge stickler for manners. This is almost certainly the result of both of my parents carrying the Stickler for Manners gene, which showed itself by them making me say my pleases, and thank yous and, horror of horrors, insisting I make eye contact when greeting guests. The older I get the more of a stickler I am becoming: I am now almost obsessive about instilling some decent manners in my own flock of hooligans, and the dining room is one of my favourite haunts in this quest.

I’m not sure if manners really do maketh man—I am rather of the opinion that it’s possessing a penis and having the ability to reside in a house for ten years and still not know where the whisks live that separates us from them—but they certainly help a lot. They also maketh children and women, by the way, and there’s no better place to start establishing some civilised behaviour than at a table.

It is for this reason that there is a hand-written poster on the wall beside our kitchen table, bearing the following Rules: