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My Parents' Brand of Heroin

In honor of my induction into solid foods, my mom and dad have decided that we need to all sit together at the dining room table, which I heretofore believed was a storage slab for sundry objects in our house no one felt like putting away.  Turns out, it is actually a common area where people are supposed to convene and share food.  Who knew.  

Eating together at the dining room table instead of the living room coffee table sounds like a pretty simple adjustment, but from the way these two have been carrying on, you would think someone asked them to eat dinner on the bottom of the sea.  I am sure you are wondering right now what could possibly be the big deal about migrating to a table that is located approximately twelve feet away from our former dining spot.  Well, let me tell you: it's the t.v.  

My parents love watching t.v. while they eat.  I think I would love it too, but I am not allowed to watch it because the blasted Baby 411 book claims I shouldn't watch any screens for my first two years of life.  Before, they would always spin me around so that I was not facing it.  I think this is called "a double standard."  Mom says to get used to it because there will probably be more of those in life.  I kept arching my back and alternating between turning my head to see the t.v. and then staring at them with big, dewy eyes while they ate their food, and Mom finally had an emotional epiphany. 

"We can't do this anymore," she said.  

Good, I thought.  Now spin me around, and let's all watch Mad Men.  


"We're just going to have to all sit around the 'real' table for dinner and watch t.v. after she goes to bed."  

I looked to Dad for support.  Surely he wouldn't agree to this tomfoolery.  

"Yeah..." he said slowly, "I think the time has come."  


Ugh.

So now we all sit around the dining room table and stare at each other while we eat.  Once and a while, Mom or Dad will turn around at stare wistfully at that powerless black rectangle resting silently on the entertainment center and sigh, "I wonder what's happening on How I Met Your Mother lately?"  

I don't know...why don't you turn it on and we'll all find out? 

"I just don't look forward to dinner like I used to," Dad noted the other day.  

"I know what you mean," Mom said.  "Dinner and t.v. has always been like a reward at the end of the day."

I chewed on my spoon and launched a liquid cannonball of yogurt and sweet potato onto the shiny dining room table. 

From my perspective, I would have to say that this arrangement ended up being an improvement.  I mean, you would think someone asked them to eat dinner without breathing.  Watching them carry on is sort of like having my own sitcom unfold before me.  Or one of those reality shows about recovering drug addicts.  

I guess everyone has their own brand of heroin.


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