I come from a family of bs-ers after dinner. We sit around the table after dinner talking about nonsense (and sometimes important things like Kev's major, me moving to MN, and baseball) long after we've cleared our plates. Dad is the only person who isn't a fan of sitting around the table. He'll sit for a little before making his exit. At Christmas, we sit and talk about plumbing and the neighborhood and family. So much so that the dinner table stories made it into my capstone.
I've always lived with table sitters. In college, we'd sit around a table at the cafeteria or, better yet, 012 until it was time for Jeopardy (another key part of my night). In MN, we spent most evenings sitting around the table, singing 3 part harmony to RENT, and talking about the crazy stories from our work places.
|All ready for Christmas dinner.|
|with Gram. Scrabble playing often occurs after a meal.|