Heading out to restaurants with my kids these days can be hit or miss. Many times they sit nicely and use their well-practiced manners, while other times they beg to play on my phone and continually complain about earth-shattering boredom. So when we were invited out to brunch with our extended family a couple of days ago, I was a little nervous as to how the kids would behave. The sea of people in the waiting area of the restaurant was not a good indicator as to how the experience was going to go, yet somehow my kiddos withstood the 30 minute wait to be seated without any major incidents. As we were sitting down, the waitress handed out children’s menus to my kids. Rocky stuck his hand out like a traffic cop and told her that he was old enough to order off the adult menu and politely declined. While the waitress looked on, I debated with Rocky the merits of the children’s menu (crayons, games, kid-friendly food, and cheap prices) for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Rocky just flat out told me that he was old enough to make the decision and didn’t want that kids’ menu. After he placed his order from the adult menu, Rocky got out of his chair and came to sit on my lap. It was if he wanted to feel what it was like to be a grown-up, but enjoy the benefits of being a kid. I didn’t mind one bit. It was nice to give him a taste of adulthood (in the form of supersized chicken fingers) then allow him to find his way back into the lap of childhood luxury.