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Dear SJG,
My five-year-old granddaughter Gertie, aka Little Miss Chews With Her Mouth Open, attended your so-called etiquette summer camp last year, and there's just no way to sugarcoat this. You taught her bupkis. What makes you an etiquette expert, I'll never know, but I'm seriously considering taking you to Small Claims Court to get back the $250 I spent in lieu of the new iPhone Gertie wanted for Hanukkah. She's thrown the last two iPhones I gave her in the toilet, so I figured your crummy camp was a safer bet. Oy, was I wrong. In three days of attending every session, all Gertie learned from you was that burping after a meal is considered good manners in Japan. Having a nosh with that child was already a nightmare, but now with the nonstop burping, you managed to make it worse. I still have a migraine from sitting next to her at brunch. At the very least, I was hoping she'd acquire a few social skills, such as how to sit like a lady, not an untrained puppy that needs to tinkle. If I don't hear from you by 5 p.m. today, I'm posting this on Yelp and contacting the Better Business Bureau, Sherman Oaks Division.
Irritably Yours,
Zelda Plotnik
Take a chill pill, Bubbie. I promise you Gertie learned plenty at Etiquette Camp and one day, you'll see the results. Right now, she's trying out Lesson One: "Don't Do This Ever." She's doing everything she's not supposed to do, getting the burps and farts and fidgeting out of her system. At some point, don't ask me when, she'll move on to Lesson Two: "Do This, Instead." You'll just have to trust me, my Zelda. I raised two sons who ignored everything I ever said and they've turned out great. Not once have they been kicked out of a restaurant, as far as I know. The eldest only burps at the table, occasionally, which I consider a personal victory. If you still want your gelt back, stop by. I've got a nice slice of kugel waiting for you.
You're Welcome,
The SJG
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