The Rules of the Table

THE RULES OF THE TABLE


I’m not exactly sure how it all started. It just evolved and we had to keep adding unthinkable rules to the rules of good table etiquette, until now when I am left with my head spinning, and I feel much more like a drill instructor at a military commissary. In all other areas of our life we try to govern with general principals like, “love your neighbor”, “obey your parents”, and “everything you do must be done in love”. But somehow to keep order and sanity at our dinner table we have needed to construct a complex set of rules that I never imagined having to set down. I imagine we are not alone. There are probably lots of families out there who have had to come up with a list of “dumb rules” to keep some order and peace in their home.
I think the first dumb rule came about after our oldest son learned his animal sounds. He would repeat his repertoire at dinnertime. At first it was cute and entertaining. But since moderation is never in a child’s programming, it quickly became apparent that we would have to say, “No animal noises at the table”. We had to reinforce this during the Jurassic Age when our two oldest boys began having carnivorous dinosaur battles, and carrying them to the dinner table. Of course then we also needed to clarify this rule definitely included extinct animals.
Some of the behavior that prompted these rules is promising and good. For example, our oldest was so excited to start learning to spell words last year. He would sound out words and we would help him. But when dinnertime came he wouldn’t discontinue his scholastic pursuits. His steaming dinner plate would grow cold with his enthusiasm for spelling. Soon it became apparent we would have to make a rule. “No more spelling at the table, we will do that when dinner is done.”
Shortly after came the rule, “no math problems at the table, we’ll talk about schoolwork when dinner is done”. Now, it is wonderful that he is so excited about school. We definitely don’t want to discourage that. If he were an only child it would probably not be an issue. However, every parent of multiple children knows…if you allow one child to have a certain behavior it is repeated in the other children in exponential fashion!
I think it was the youngest who decided to use his utensils for a musical instrument. Of course that prompted a rule about not touching your utensils until the meal is served. Multiple cups of spilt milk have prompted the rule, “Put your cups at 12:00!” In case they forget the rule about swinging their arms at the table.
Once in a great while I will feed the kids early and prepare a really special meal. My husband and I will sit down across from each other and peer into each other’s eyes through the candlelight, and think, “Who are you?” “I don’t think we’ve eaten together before!” It just doesn’t seem like dinner. It’s so tranquil and serene. Our beloved dog is very disappointed on such occasions, as her job is to clean up the mess on the floor when we’re all done.

I had a suspicion that my family wasn’t the only entity that needed to make up dumb laws. I looked up a website dedicated to outdated, outlandish laws and here are a few of my favorite. In New Hampshire did you know that it is illegal to pick seaweed up off the beach? In that case my two year old should be brought up on charges. I think he snuck some seaweed home in his shorts when we went to the beach the other day. Also, it is illegal to sell the clothes you are wearing to pay off a gambling debt. Apparently this was a big problem. And my favorite, it is illegal to tap your feet, nod your head, or in any way keep time to the music in a tavern, restaurant, or café. Perhaps they also had a problem with people clanging their spoons in time to the music before their meal arrived.

I’m sure fifteen years from now when Peter and I are able to have intelligible conversations at dinner we will miss the rousing and exciting dinners we have now. I hope that we will enjoy each other’s company immensely and we won’t become bored. However, if it does get too quiet maybe we’ll clang our spoons against our plates just for old times’ sake.