Tales from the dinner table: candle lit dinners vs. real life

All in one chair, after dinner. Sharing a cup of icecream.

All in one chair, after dinner. Sharing a cup of icecream.

Dear Izzy, Max, and Kate,

Sometimes I imagine other families having dinner. For some reason it’s quiet, dimly lit, perhaps just a candle flickering on the table. Maybe there’s soft music playing. Probably jazz or classical. I think in my imagination the kids must already be in bed – at 6pm. I picture them like Clark Griswold’s neighbors in Christmas Vacation. Peaceful. Well dressed. Having adult conversation.

But what fun would that be?

Here’s another scattered conversation from our family dinner table last night. Not for the faint of heart:

“Dad,” you said, Max. “Dad.”

Silence. I’ve almost grown afraid to respond.

“Daaaad….,” you repeated.

“Yes, Max?” I responded.

“Do I have booger in my nose?” You looked up at the ceiling.

“Let me see,” I said. The girls looked on in horror.

“Oh wow! Yes!”

“It’s stuck. Get it,” you said.

I set about the extraction. Both of us grimacing as I worked.

“At least take him to the bathroom!” said Mommy. You girls giggled. “Boys! So gross,” muttered Mommy.

From the bathroom:

“Seriously!? Who went to the bathroom and didn’t flush….again?!” I said.

“It was Kate, dad. It was Kate,” you said Max.

Back at the table at heated debate began between you two, Izzy and Kate. Each of you blaming the other.

Mommy stepped in again.

“Really?! Are we debating who pooped in the toilet and didn’t flush it…at the dinner table? Who are you people? I cooked a nice dinner. Let’s change the subject.”

“Max has a big belly,” you said, Kate.

“I think he’s a seahorse,” you responded, Izzy. “You know male seahorses can have babies. Maybe Max is having a baby.”

You only lifted your shirt to show us your belly in all of it’s glory, Max.

“Good grief,” said Mommy.

Kate, you casually sipped on your Atkins protein shake while the rest of us ate the nice dinner Mommy prepared. You live on protein drinks. Diva.

“So, I’m making a napkin out of this chicken skin,” you said, Izzy.

“What?” we all responded, as you smoothed a piece of chicken skin out and pressed it between paper towels.

“Yeah, that’s what Indians did,” you said. “They made all sorts of things out of skin.”

The conversation continued in all sorts of directions. At some point I drifted back off into that world of quiet candle lit dinners with Mommy. You kids sleeping in your rooms. But as usual, I quickly realized how much fun we have at our table. Back in the world of real family. An 8 year old and twin 4 year olds. However gross it might be.

I love you,

– Daddy


Monday: Rest

Tuesday: Swam 1900 / Ran 5

Wednesday: 60 minutes on the bike trainer

Thursday: Ran 5 on the treadmill