There’s a cliche scene that repeats itself over and over in movies and television: a young child sits in vain at the dinner table and vehemently refuses to eat, acting as if the presence of lovingly prepared food presents some danger or peril. The child’s parents suffer through the frustration.
My favorite interpretation of this cliche is in “A Christmas Story.” The younger brother, Randy, won’t eat his food. His mother creatively acts him to eat like a pig. He indulges by slamming his face into the mashed potatoes and meat. The family shares a good laugh about it, except the father who is not at all entertained by the short moment of harmony.
My least favorite interpretation is yours these past weeks and months. Most days it’s a struggle to pull you from your art or imaginative play to get to the table, and we can deal with that. The problem is that you spend most of the entire dinner complaining about what’s in front of you, unless it’s a curry or can be solved in flavor with Trader Joe’s Soyaki sauce or Chik-Fil-A sauce. You make loud-enough sounds of displeasure as you eat or in between the debates for how much more you need to eat to earn dessert.
It’s death by a thousand whines and it’s quite exhausting.
I think your Mom and I do a good job taking turns and enforcing the calorie intake, but it doesn’t make for a relaxing dinner or enjoyable company. The fact that we’ve only shared meals most of the last three months as an immediate family adds some stress to the scenario, but your Mom and I decided long ago that we eat as a family. We will always break bread together with no screens and no distractions. It might be the only time of the day that occurs for any of us, which makes it so important.
You can be a good eater at any other hour. You usually eat a good breakfast, and lunches are a mixed bag. You are always down for a bowl of Cheerios, especially late in the evening — a result of not eating well at dinnertime, usually. For some reason, you are just not motivated by the ritual of dinner. I know you will be. It’s a phase. Teenagers eat. They actually eat quite a lot, and by then I’ll ask you and Matteo to eat less to help with a skyrocketing grocery bill.
We also pray before dinner as a family. We picked up the habit from your school and the pre-snack prayer you learned there. Matteo still doesn’t have all the hand gestures down, and you two interrupt through the prayer to remind us that we can fold our hands in several combinations. Still, I think it’s good that we pray together and eat together if only so that you see your Mom and I modeling the behavior.
And I personally need the prayer to ask patience so that you eat the food on your plate, so help me God.
Love,
Dad