My son’s soccer team needed to eat. But 14 nine-year-old boys crowding into Panera during the lunchtime rush equals chaos. After a tough but victorious soccer game, the boys’ natural exuberance and energy spilled out in a few shoves, elbows, and good-natured tussles while they waited in line. But they welcomed the restaurant’s warmth and the prospect of food.
Twenty minutes in, the kids had finished but the parents lingered, unwilling to leave their cozy booths. Fortunately for the dining peace of the other patrons, the boys found a settling diversion: a baby.
Like iron filings drawn to a magnet, they crowded around the youngest sibling of one of their teammates. The little guy, ”Jake,” was 18 months old, with a huge smile and hardly any hair. He was, they decided, really cool.
“Powerful” is more accurate. Jake had those boys mesmerized. They gathered around him while he orchestrated their laughs with funny sounds and wild flourishes as he dropped napkins, spoons, and food, over and over. They spent 45 minutes with Jake, jostling only for the prized position next to him, which conveyed the right to feed and entertain him.
Fourteen nine-year-old boys… tamed by a 30-pounder wearing diapers.
It’s baby power.
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