Of Course I'm Sure?

The kids and I were glad to meet up with a friend and her lovely children for an after school snack today. We decided to head to one of the local bagel shops on the Upper West Side. Like most, this shop is cozy, with an ambitious number of chairs and tables for its diminutive floor plan. It's a favorite place for retirees with newspapers and a hour or two to blow.

The kids had been in school for 7 hours and endured a 30 minute bus ride.
They are aged 5, 5, 3, and 1.
They like each other and seem to find one another hilarious to the extreme.
They were...not quiet.

It took us a few minutes to settle into the corner of the place, take off coats, tuck away scooters and strollers.
My friend went to the counter and placed her order while I stood guard. During this time, Jonathan was stricken which such laughter (brought on by his friend's snorting noises) that he fell off his chair. The one year old started to cry and Chloe asked, loudly and repeatedly, "Mom, can I have a cookie?"

My friend returned with her order, and I approached the counter. I told the nice man what I would like, and he said, "To stay or to go?"

"Oh, to stay, please," I said, with my best I'm-a-friendly-type-gal smile.

With a glance toward the moderate mayhem continuing to erupt in the corner, he snorted, "Are you sure?"