“When I grow up,” Bunny exclaimed, “my children won’t never have to say Thank you or they’re sorry unless they really mean it.”
“When I grow up,” Ruth said, “I’m going to do without children. They’re too much of a burden.”
“Perhaps when the time comes,” said one of the guards, “they’ll find it’s not as easy as it sounds.”
Martin turned hopelessly to the boys. “Ben, don’t you grow up. It isn’t fun. Ben, I—I advise you not to grow up.”
“Quit your kidding,” Ben retorted. “What’s biting you?”
“Ben!” exclaimed an indignant parent. “Where on earth do you pick up that way of talking. I’m amazed at you.”
Martin saw it was too late. Already something had happened. Just the invasion of elders into the room had changed them all.
“Mother!” he appealed. “Tell the truth, it’s awfully important, cross your heart and hope to die. Do you have a good time?”
A chorus of laughter from the adults.
“Why, dear, what an absurd question. Do we look so miserable?”