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Last week we had a dinner guest. We often play host on Shabbat or for the odd Sunday barbeque, but a guest on a regular Wednesday night threw my children for a loop. As I pulled out a table cloth and began to set the dining room as opposed to the kitchen table, my three year old looked at my questioningly –  ‘I didn’t know it was Shabbat’.

‘It’s not – someone is in town to meet with Daddy and he’s coming for dinner’.

‘But I didn’t have Shabbat party at school, so why does the table look pretty?’

And so I explained that even though we usually behave like ruffians on weeknights, eating on the fly off of an unset table as stray donkeys roam the kitchen, tonight we were cleaning up our act and minding our manners in order to pull a fast one on a stranger.

Over afternoon ice cream cones I explained to the kids what was expected of them: be polite, eat nicely, and then go play. Embarrass me and I will remove this ice cream cone from inside you. Given that I had the rest of dinner to prepare, I thought it wise to economize my time by using the ice cream to foster good will, prevent that pre-dinner starvation meltdown, and threaten them into submission. That’s three birds with one cone – I am uber- efficient.

The guest enters into a good smelling, relatively clean house. He is kind enough to pretend he doesn’t mind the paper airplanes whizzing by his head as we introduce ourselves. And we sit down to dinner.

The taste of the ice cream still fresh in their minds (and the stain of the ice cream still fresh on their shirts), the kids eat nicely and head off to play. When the arguments inevitably begin I almost launch into an ice cream retrieval tirade, but I see the smiling guest, and I surprise my children and myself by speaking in a nice, patient, Mommy voice. I too, am on my best guest behavior. I don’t think that our first meeting is the proper time to reveal that on occasion, when really pressed up against it, in a temporary moment of insanity, having exhausted all other humane disciplinary tactics, I might accidently raise my voice at my sweet, precious offspring.

And the meal continues on in this way. My kids act like kids, and I act like a calm and serene person, reveling in the endless supply of tolerance that our guest seems to have brought me as a hostess gift. I high-five my family as he leaves – Hooray! We have fooled him into thinking we are functional proven that we are polite and awesome!

I got to thinking that I would be a nicer mom if we always had a guest in our home. Unlike a live-in babysitter around whom I would eventually reveal my true colors, the presence of an actual outsider would insist that I consistently maintain my ‘people are watching’ demeanor.

And that is how I came up with my latest business venture: Rent-A-Guest!

Having a rough evening? On the verge of auctioning off someone under the age of 10? Rent-a-Guest will have you fake smiling in no time! Simply invite one of our pre-screened strangers over for an evening and let the positive parenting begin. Our guests are guaranteed to be friendly, interesting, and just judgmental enough to keep you on your child-nurturing toes.

Our reasonable rate of $19.95 plus dinner allows you one guest for the duration of the meal. Rates increase if you wish your stranger to be

a) tolerant of paper airplanes

b) complimentary of your cooking

c) kind enough not to talk about you to others after dinner

Rent-A-Guest today and ensure that you will not lose it with your kids tonight. At least until the guest leaves. And then you’re on your own. At which point I recommend ice cream.