Everyday Life

On Thursday nights Lynn teaches a grad class and I stay home with the kids.  I cook meals that indulge their unique picky-ness and wonder if that's part of what makes them so entitled.  I wonder if all parents everywhere think their children are entitled.  Or if that's different if you live in a war zone or a refugee camp.  And we always have our dinners at the kitchen table on Thursday nights: signifying that this is a bit more contingent, informal, less complete than dinners in the dining room with Lynn home.  Neither table makes Addison like family dinners any more.  He insists that since he dislikes eating in general, being forced to be congenial and conversation while celebrating a tradition that makes no sense to him.....well....it makes no sense.

I understand his logic and having been a bit of maverick and a bit of a debater in my own day,  I'm actually quite a bit more suasible than I let on to him.  But I now know the power of tradition and the importance of stability and the worth of training one's self to be other-oriented, so I make him stay at the table and (yes) mandate congeniality.  (Which is, obviously, so ridiculous.)  My friend Dave said on his facebook status within the last week -- no one ever gets to the end of their life and regrets having spent too much time with their family.   I wanted to type back any number of snarky rebuttals, but the "Likes" and comments piled up like trophies at the Judgement Seat of Christ in the Last Days, so I decided to wait it out.  Maybe when I get to the end of my life I won't think that I spent too much time with my kids during their adolescence, but right now?  The jury is out.

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