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I can deal with children from four upwards now.
I think I probably could before, but I found them harder to tune out.
Still fret about childer running amok - but now it's omreo worry that they'll come a cropper, rather than keeping my fingers crossed they'll trip up a waiter with a sizzling plate and get what they deserve.
It's the wordless wailing and repetition (usually associated with the Terrible Twos) and the randomn shrieks of those younger that still afflict me. Urgh. SHUT UP!
Mum says she and Dad didn't sit together in Mass for about four years thanks to me and my sister. One of them was always stationed close to the exit in case there was trouble. It was usually with me, squirming and talking and wriggling and crying when I wasn't allowed my own way. I was Godless even then it seems.
But chops to them for not wanting to drown out other people's communion with God.
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