Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Friday, August 4, 2017

Family Dining

Guaranteed to make mealtime . . . interesting.
I had been smart.
I had managed to find two of each of the four patterns of the Campbell's Kids soup bowls.
All cute.
All capable of holding soup.
And none of which was ‘the right one’ at any given meal . . .
Dinner is served. 
Shining, clean silverware catches the light. Sturdy, colourful bowls and equally colourful cups create a cheerful, festive ambiance to the meal.
A large tureen of luscious, homemade soup, rich with meaty broth and thick with chunks of potatoes, carrots, onions and other vegetables--together with a platter of fresh-baked bread, flanked by a dish of creamy butter--is arranged at the center of the table, with careful attention to proximity for all who are gathered.
Grace is said.
Then . . .
Child #1: Mom! I wanted the skater bowl! It’s my turn to get the skater bowl!
Child #2: She always gets the skater bowl! I wanted it this time!
Me: I bought two of them! Where is the other one?
Child #3: I have it.
Me: Well, would you mind using the soccer bowl instead?
Child #3: I already started eating.
Child #1: Yuck! I don’t want it if he’s been using it! I’ll get his germs!
Child #4: I'm not hungry.
Me: Gaaahhh!
Moving ahead twenty years . . .
Dinner is served.
The table has been laid with the finest of paper-thin, bone china and glistening, polished silver.
Crystal goblets catch the light of myriad candles.
Heavily laden dishes, steaming hot and breathing out the teasing, tantalizing scents of basil, thyme and rosemary have been placed with distinct attention to both aesthetic detail and practical access.
Family has gathered.
In a surge of thankfulness for the bounties before us, Grace is said.
And then, from the kids’ table . . .
Grandchild #1: Gramma! I wanted the blue cup!
Grandchild #2: She had the blue cup last time! It’s my turn!
Grandchild #3: I don’t want the pink cup ‘cause it’s a girl colour!
Grandchild #4: I'm not hungry.
Gramma: Gaaahhh!
Sigh.

15 comments:

  1. Replies
    1. Reminds me of the circling of vultures . . .

      Delete
  2. Ha, just when you thought it was over . . .

    ReplyDelete
  3. I loved those bowls! And I would totally fight over which one to have, too!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Come on over. I'll throw you into the mix . . .

      Delete
  4. What goes around, comes around! Or something like that. Oh those bowls. Now an heirloom!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yeah. Now they're fighting over who gets to take them home so their kids can fight over them . . .

      Delete
  5. Decades later I mourn the shattering of MY Benjamin Bunny bowl. And harbour ill-will against the brother who dropped it.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Well, of course! It IS Benjamin Bunny!

      Delete
  6. And that, my friend, is when you make their eyes roll in their sockets by saying, "When *I* was a kid, we were lucky to even have one cup among all of us, we had to share a toothbrush, and we slept twelve to a bed ... yessiree ..."

    ReplyDelete
  7. Ha Ha. I remember my dinnerware being all the same, for many years. As wedding gifts I received three identical dinner sets, along with three identical cutlery sets, so no one was able to cry foul on choices. Boring, but quiet.

    ReplyDelete

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