Back To The Kids Table

I used to hate being at the kids table. As I looked through the kitchen doorway into the elegant dining room where our parents were dressed up and talking about "adult" things, I dreamed of the day I could sit with them. Then it happened and I wanted it to un-happen.

Everything seems so much greater at the adult table after you've spent years with the rest of the kids in the family dodging food coming from across the table, talking about stuff that feels like it's only interesting to a baby and feeling left out of the fancy side of the holidays. I wanted so badly to have a place at that adult table.

I remember the year well. I had dressed up for Thanksgiving in the hopes that I would be "chosen" to sit with the adults. I was 13 and the rest of the kids were at least 10 years old. At that time, it seemed like a huge age difference. My dress was all pressed and I planned to look like I was ready for the big change. It happened. I was given a seat at the adult table!

Thanksgiving dinner was ready to be served and we were all called to have a seat. You know, to "ooohhhh" and "aaaaahhhhh" over how beautiful the meal looks. I found the tall back chair at the table decorated in dark reds, gold and browns. The candles were lit, casting a glow throughout the dim dining room and the long table was perfectly arranged flowers and fancy serving pieces. Everything matched and it was gorgeous. Things seemed quiet and peaceful. Meanwhile, the kids all ran to the folding table in the kitchen dining room talking about the food they like and dislike and figuring out who was going to sit where. The same thing happened every year.

When the dishes were passed around, I could hear the little voices coming from the kitchen while the adults at my table talked about work and their cars and other people I didn't know. I tried to act older when passing my food around the table (remember: Pass to the left) and pretending like the dishes didn't feel like they weighed 20 pounds. I would keep eyeing my mom who, I think was smiling at me. I wasn't ever sure because I couldn't see her through the candles, flowers and everything else that I was now seeing as junk in my way. The appeal of the adult table wore off really quickly as I'd hear the "kids" in the other room carrying on traditions I'd been part of since I was little. They were trying to figure out how to play the games we'd always played - but with one less person. They laughed, they ate only the things they wanted to eat, not like me who had creamed something-or-other on 2/3 of my plate.

I've never been a super-fussy person and I came to terms with that on Thanksgiving when I was 13 years old. That was the last time I got all decked out for a holiday to "earn" my place at the adult table. It was the year I learned that you don't "earn" your way and they don't "choose" you, it's a matter of how many people show up for Thanksgiving. That year, I was a default because someone was going through a breakup. We heard about that at the table, too.

Since that Thanksgiving, I have secured my place at the kids table each and every year. Now that I'm adult, we wear comfy casual clothes and everyone is at the same table. The table where we can see each other, where we eat the food we like and the table where gratitude is shared by each and every one of us in front of each and every one of us. We are a family united as one with one rule: Don't take yourself too seriously.

Are you a kids table person? What makes you want that coveted position at the folding table in the kitchen?