Eight Hundred and Eleven

Eight hundred and eleven.  That's the number of days that we've been parents. 

Somewhere north of a hundred.  That's the number of meals we've eaten out at restaurants with the kids. 

(Eat is probably not a proper term in our case.  Shoveling half a plate of food into our mouths and pounding our beers like we were freshman in college in hopes that one of us might actually finish our food & beverage before a plate goes flying, someone gets sporked in the eye, or a spontaneous bongo drum session breaks out on the table). 

Two.  The number of compliments we've received telling us that our children are 'the most well behaved kids anyone has seen in a restaurant'. 

Yep, we're confused too. 

We'll take it!