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Kids Table

In by Lara on January 2, 2011 at 6:21 am

There are three dinner tables. We sit at the kids table. I’m 23 years-old. My uncle’s new wife  younger than me. She sits at the adult’s table.

“Watcha eatin’ ?” asks Dave, 6 years-old and boogery.

“Pasta.”

“Is it hot?”

He puts his fingers all over my pasta. Boogery, boogery fingers and now boogery pasta. Great.

“It’s not that hot.”

I order a drink from the waiter as he passes by, almost expecting him to refuse me the G&T I need. Make it a Shirley temple instead, I say.  Don’t want Dave to see if my drink is cold and accidentally get drunk.

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  1. Aww good old family. What’s the third table for? Post-adults? Tweens?

    Love Dave, love this piece.

  2. Maybe you should have said it like it really was.

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