Parents, Kids and Manners at the Table

One of the things I've noticed about getting older is that you begin to say things like "back in the day" or "when I was growing up."  I never thought I would say these things, just like I never thought I would make my mother's noise when she sat down after cleaning up dinner to watch the news. But I say these things now and I also make the noise. I am hoping that getting cranky is two decades away but don't bet the ranch.

A woman of a certain age, whom I will call Kelly, is also my best friend runs with me every Saturday. We look forward to a couple of hours together, as like-minded people do, to chat and catch up on what has happened to us during the week. We avoid email and the phone so that we have enough to talk about during ur 8- to 10-mile runs. I am not the fastest runner, and she is not the fastest talker so we are a good match for this sort of run.

Last Saturday, Kelly told me that she had had overnight guests who have a 6- and 10-year-old. She viewed this visit with some trepidation because past experience has taught her that these children have a great deal to learn about good manners, and there is no one in their immediate vicinity to teach them. Most of the trouble revolves around the meal table.

Kelly made a fairly work-intensive dinner the first evening of their visit, having been informed that they will eat only spaghetti and garlic bread. My friend also put together a salad and made her own sauce. The kids pestered, whined and pleaded for food the entire time it was being prepared, insisting that starvation was just around the corner and death not far behind.

Kelly served the meal, said the blessing, the kids ate exactly one piece of garlic bread and left the table to watch TV. Napkins on the lap, elbows tucked to the side and pleasant coversation was never even a possibility. Lest you think the parents of these two barbarians had gone to see a movie, I am sorry to inform you that they were sitting right there. I told Kelly that the next time they come, she should buy a couple of cans of spaghetti and meatballs ala Chef Boyardee and nuke it for them, served on the back porch, straight out of the can.

I must also tell you that such things have happened to me with visitors to my own home, and I have watched similar borishness in restaurants. Allow me to get the "in my day" out of my system and tell you that had I behaved in such a way in my home—let us not even get into what would have happened in a restaurant—I would still be orbiting the earth, sent there by a well-placed swat on my bottom delivered by a parent.

Here is the thing about food, first of all. It is a blessing, and we are never grateful enough for it. Fine, un-engineered food is getting harder to locate, but you can find it in your own home by buying quality ingredients from places like Blue Goose and preparing it yourself. If you include your children in the cooking process, they learn to appreciate the work required to create a delicious meal. A delicious meal does not involve a drive-through window. This is step one.

Step two involves consistent guidance and vigilence on the part of the parents.  Napkins must be placed on the lap and remain there unless wiping the mouth.  Elbows and table tops should never get to know each other on intimate terms. Chewing must be accomplished with the mouth closed and certainly not mid-sentence. Your attendance is required until you are excused.

If you are throwing chicken nuggets at your children in the backseat of the car every day, how can you expect them to know how to behave at the meal table? If this is a daily routine for you, you have no right to complain that they will not eat vegetables or refuse to try new foods. There was yet another column in the Tribune today regarding ways to get kids to eat vegetables. My kids never met a vegetable they didn't like. Why, you ask? Because I served all kinds of vegetables, including broccoli, asparagus and squash, put it on their plates and they ate it. No big deal. If they truly did not like something, they did not have to eat it. Eventually, because not eating something never became an act of Congress, they began to eat it. These kiddie food boycotts are a power play, not a true dislike for the food. And parents encourage it.

We all have the ability to raise our children the way we choose. But if you raise yours like Kelly's guests have, do not be surprised if dinner invitations to other people's homes stop coming to you.