The Art of Conversation at Dinner

I believe one of the major reasons I have always struggled with my weight is that, in my mind, food is equated to love.

My mom was a brilliant alchemist in the kitchen. Not so much because she was some sort of culinary artist (said: arteest) but because every item of food that was set on our table was served, not out of pots and pans, but out of her heart. And you could taste the magic that is love, with every bite.

Sundays and Christmas hold the best memories for me. There was melt-in-your-mouth-eat-until-food-oozes-from-your-gills food everywhere. Roast, fried chicken, milk gravy, biscuits, mud pie, green beans, chocolate silk pie, red potatoes, carrots, every cookie imaginable, pecan pie, banana bread, ham, homemade bread, cheesecake... Is your mouth watering yet?

So for me, the essence of family and love were very centered around meal time.

It still is. I love to sit down to a meal and talk, laugh or fight with my husband and kids. Some of our best conversations are at dinner. You know the term quality time? Ours is usually at a meal of some sort and they are never unimaginative or routine.

For instance...

We are having dinner at Chili's (this was way last week for those of y'all who are keeping me accountable to the protein shakes), it's just the kids and me since dad is helping take equipment and supplies to Trinity for my boss...who just happens to also be his friend.

We are having a great time talking and telling stories. Eddie begins to tell me about his speech class and the 'report' that he gave where he had to take a song from a musical and act it out in front of the class.

Me: You would make a great actor because you can memorize lines, emote believably, and...

Elena: Oh he can act alright!

Me: What makes you say that?

Elena: Cause sometimes he acts just like a two year old.

Eddie: YOUR FACE.
(that is his come back for EVERYTHING. This tastes funny. YOUR FACE. I don't understand this problem. YOUR FACE. What 's for dinner? YOUR...you get the idea.)

Me: Hey! Your momma.

See? Love.

We talk some more and Elena begins to tell me about a report she is writing on the digestive system where you have to pretend you are a piece of food and what it's like. She is a cocoa-puff.

Which is funny to me for two reasons. One, we don't eat cocoa-puffs so it was odd that she would pick that particular cereal. And two, puff is the term we use in our home (an adopted term picked up from friends) for um, passing gas.

She tells me about the puff's journey down the water slide known as the esophagus and the journey into the stomach where a woman is tossing salad all about and then the puff travels into the small intestine and ...

(dirty look from table next to us fork hits plate hard)

Me: You know, maybe you should tell me about this later...

Elena: Why?

Me: Other people are eating and probably don't want to hear this.

Elena: But I wanted to tell you about the joke I made when the puff leaves your anus.

Me: *laughing so hard there are tears*

Elena: Can I?

Me: I think you just did.

Magic people. Absolute magic.

We finish, pay and walk out the door talking. Eddie's trying to tell us about something when Elena interrupts with a comment.

Eddie: Nice Elena, you made me forget what I was going to say.

Elena: Yeah, that's how I roll.

Eddie: Oh, yeah? Well, this is how I rock! *loud puff*

Elena: *singing* I wanna rock & roll all night...

Eddie: Eew.

You can't just go out buy memories like those.

I hope when they are older, they will look back on these times with the same sentiment as I did. But, that it won't be the food they equate with love, rather our conversations, our laughter, our silliness and our...our...

Oh yeah, YOUR FACE!

Oh, and this was my 100th post. Woo hoo...