Don't you wish your brothers were this polite at the table?

First he carefully wipes his mouth. Note that the napkin is STILL folded up. Not in a ball, not in knot, not in anything but a perfect rectangle!


Then he adjusts the table cloth- so that it's perfect. Well, almost.

"May I serenade you with my harmonica while you eat your soup? (Hey! Where is it anyway?"

It's a bird! It's a plane! It's a.... spoon?


"Madam, I am offended you think I am blowing my nose. Every eighteen-month-old knows how to wipe his mouth properly!"

Despite his almost impeccable performance at the table, he seems to be making an airplane out of his napkin now.