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The Kid’s Table

I love Thanksgiving.  I am a noted Turkeyaholic in my family and no one makes a better Turkey than my mother-in-law, Carol.  We were invited to her home again this Thanksgiving to share in Thanksgiving Dinner with the rest of my wife's family.  It's always a very nice holiday as Carol lays out a very nice spread.  She sets a wonderful dining room table which is nice to look at almost as much as it is to eat what is on it.   Those of you versed in Thanksgiving Lore know that this is commonly referred to as the "adult table".  This is where, once you have reached that stage in life, you are allowed to sit on the nice furniture, use the expensive dishes, and practice your good manners.  It is somewhat of a right of passage into adulthood if you will.

However, with all the beauty and grandeur of the adult table, I realized that this Thanksgiving that the Kid's Table was the place to be.  You guys remember the kid's table when we were growing up, right?  It usually consisted of a card table setup somewhere in striking distance of your mother's right arm.  The table would be set with the ordinary dishes from the kitchen with red plastic dixie cups for stemware.  Your mom would load up a plate of potatoes and turkey for you and plop you down on the Samsonite folding chair and expect you to be quiet and eat, all the while the "grown-ups" got to drink wine, make stupid jokes you didn't understand, and ask you if you have eaten your green beans yet.

Heaven with 2 Drumsticks...

Ohhh no.. Not anymore!  The kid's table at Carol's was far from what we remember.  First of all, before grown ups got a chance to eat, all of the moms took their children into the main dining room and paraded them around the beautifully set table.  The children instructed their parents exactly what and how much they wanted to eat (with very few exceptions..) while the moms took their orders and loaded their plates with food.  Then, the children were escorted back into the kitchen area, out of reach from any mother's right hook, and sat at a large kitchen table that did not fold away when you were finished eating.  The chairs were nice and comfortable with cushions and there was plenty of room.   You are probably asking yourself "Bubba, what is so damn special about that?"  Well, let me finish.  You see, it's not so much about the furniture as it was about the location.  You see, next to the kitchen table was a new flat screen TV complete with cable on which the football game was showing.  This was allowed to remain on during the course of the meal.  Secondly, in the kitchen, you are closest to what I like to call the "reserve portions".  These are the food items that would not fit into the pretty serving bowls and are therefore on standby in the kitchen.   Once the kids had finished their favorite food items they were within quick striking distance of seconds and thirds of pretty much of anything they wanted.  Instead of practicing good manners and asking for the the potatoes to be passed, awaiting the arrival of said potatoes as it is passed around, and then hoping that the bowl is not emptied en route by everyone who is passing it to you, the kid's take few steps into the kitchen, pile on a new mountain of potatoes, and quickly get back to the football game.  Umph.

By the time we are through the passing of the food and I am ready to take my first fork full of heavenly turkey, the kids are in the kitchen hoarking down their second plate of food after raiding the reserves and arguing that the limit of deviled eggs they can eat is four or five.  What's that? Touchdown?  What's the score again?  Kids?  Hello?

How I got to the adult's table at Thanksgiving is a mystery to me.  Those that know me know that I can be quite the child at times both in my humor and my behavior.  I took some time to reflect on past Thanksgivings and I cannot recall at what point I was promoted from the kids table.   I think maybe next year I will speak to the family about the kid's table requirements and see if myself and maybe a couple other dads can get a kitchen pass, or at least move the TV into the dining room.  =)