This weekend has been full of domestic industry here in the harriet household as we try to squeeze Thanksgiving in amongst a host of other activities. But progress has been made. The bread for the dressing is now chopped and stalifying in an enormous stainless steel bowl. The carrot salad is marinating in the refrigerator and a pot full of cranberries and orange and spices is simmering on the stove, making the house smell like a holiday.

AJ and I ducked out this afternoon, leaving my husband (who, thanks to fairlywell has acquired a new nickname: Mr. Spy) to enjoy the Bears game in peace. We headed to a suburban children�s museum that AJ loves, but which I have never been to before. It was a fun museum with well thought-out exhibits. AJ�s favorite part was the waterworks, where he could aim a water cannon at assorted percussion instruments and make a cacophony of sound.

AJ had a great time. I spent the better part of our visit, though, marveling at how badly behaved most kids are and how many parents fail to correct them when they, say, try to shove AJ off a game he�s been playing for 30 seconds because they don�t feel like waiting in line. �Hey!� shouted AJ, gripping the game with all his might. �Hey!� The kid sauntered off. I stared at the retreating back of the mother who simply tousled his hair.

Then there was the 8-year-old girl who sat across from us at the craft table. Her mother sat next to her and, on the mother�s other side, her little brother. The girl shrieked regularly for whatever she thought she needed. �Glue! Mooom, give me the glue!� Mom, who was helping little brother with his craft, said not a word but passed her whatever she demanded. AJ watched in silence. �Black! I need the black! I need it right now! Give me the black, Mom. Mom? MOM!!!� Mom was busy and told her to wait, but she persisted with her shrieking. AJ got up, went to the next table, picked up a black marker and handed it to her. The girl snatched the marker from his hand and started scribbling. The mother looked at AJ and said nothing. �Thank you, AJ,� I said to him. �That was nice of you.� We exchanged glances that made it clear that he did it not so much to be nice as to shut her up.

I don�t think I have especially high standards for child behavior in that kind of atmosphere where there are so many things for them to see and even the most adjusted kids get overstimulated. Kids need to be kids � they need to run and play and have the freedom to explore and make mistakes. All kids have meltdowns and bad moments, my own included. None of that bothers me. Far from it � I welcome it. There are too few places where kids have the right to be kids and they need to enjoy the spaces designed just for them. The thing I found appalling � and the thing that made me feel like a sour old curmudgeon � was that the parents didn�t seem to notice when things got out of hand. Or worse, when they noticed, they didn�t seem to care. AJ isn�t perfect, but he knows it�s important to treat other people with respect and to wait his turn. He doesn�t usually grab or push and when he does, he gets an instant time out. And it wasn�t one child, it was many; it wasn�t one incident, it was many. I�ve never seen so many children behaving so poorly at once. And I�m starting to understand where the growing lack of civility among adults comes from.

So while the museum was terrific, I have to say I was happy to get out of there, happy to get back to my house of good smells.

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