A place at the table
My in-laws visited over the holidays and one of them sat in my seat at the table.
I don’t know when our family got assigned seats. It might have been after the oldest graduated from a high chair to a real chair, and we put her across from her dad because that’s where the high chair was.
But by the time all three of them were eating at the big table, we’d pretty much settled on where everybody was sitting. The girls were next to each other, their brother as far from them as possible to prevent — well — those things that happen between siblings. I don’t remember any of the offspring sitting in anybody else’s seat, even to be annoying. Visitors usually take the empty seats almost by default.
When I was a child, we also had acquired assigned seats by the time we were school-aged. I don’t know how that happens.
Oddly enough, I still sit in my seat, at home and at my mother’s house, even when I’m the only one at the table.
All of these thoughts ran through my head when I began putting a Memorial Day meal on the table and noticed that my seat was filled. I had a moment of disorientation, then added a plate to a convenient corner for the duration.
But it was nice to get back to my seat after the visitors left!
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File photo by Seth Harrison / The Journal News/LoHud.com