Last night I decided to bring back family dinner. You know what I’m talking about. Family of four gathered around the dinner table, eating a homecooked meal and talking about our day. No eating in front of the television or wolfing down food in the car on the way to an event. Admittedly, the idea came to me because dinner was already prepared by the time I arrived home – made possible by my wonderful mother-in-law who took it upon herself to make it for my family and slip it into the fridge while Joe and I were at work and the kiddos were at school. She should be recommended for sainthood or knighted by the Queen.
When I arrived home and spotted the already-made dinner and realized I’d only need to pop it in the oven to warm it up, I put on my apron and got to work heating the food and setting the table. Usually I would shed my business attire and slip into PJs, but I was wearing a new dress and shoes I wanted to show off to Joe. In my head I looked amazing fussing around the kitchen in my peekaboo shoulder dress, spikey heels, and neatly pressed (because it’s never used and looks brand new) apron. Side-note: I took a selfie in said apron and dress clothes and it turns out I wasn’t looking as cute as I’d pictured in my head. I envisioned a sort of Audrey Hepburn meets June Cleaver look. What I saw in my selfie was …. well, something entirely different.
But, I digress…
So I set the table with matching plates, silverware, and even cloth napkins folded into quaint pyramids. Full disclosure – the napkins were still folded from a previous family gathering and had gone unused. Joe arrived home from work just as the dinner was coming out of the oven. Kiddos washed their hands and we all took our seats.
Kiki immediately launched into telling us about her day. “Oh, an then it was so embarrassing when…” This was about the third tale of something embarrassing that happened to her at school.
“Not everything is embarrassing,” Joe teased her. Clearly the man doesn’t understand teenage girls. EVERYTHING is embarrassing at that age.
The chattering went on and on without ceasing. “So, then in Leadership class…,” Kiki continued.
At this moment Bella yelled out, “Kiki, you don’t have to tell us every single part of your day.” Bella rolled her eyes, then smirked in our direction.
Kiki continued with her story, unphased. Joe discreetly pulled out his phone and set a timer as she prattled on.
Her latest story finally through, Joe let Bella know it was her turn to talk. “Kiki’s last story took 2 minutes 11 seconds, so let’s keep it to two minutes per story.”
To this, Bella responded, “Okay, I’ve got twenty stories.”
At this point, I was groaning inside. It was painful – but also, super funny.
Luckily, Bella only had two or three stories. They were short. Confusing. But short.
The food was fabulous. The stories were … precious? And you could tell the kids loved Joe’s and my undivided attention as they told us every part of their day (for Kiki, it was told in GREAT DETAIL). By the time dinner was over, Joe and I were exhausted – but it was a heart-warming, comical experience. If you looked for us shortly after, we were nodding off in front of the television.
Bringing back family dinners. A great experience, but not for the faint of heart. A double-shot espresso is highly recommended prior to commencing.