The Parten Family Dinner: An exercise in humor

Last weekend, I went home for the first time since Spring Break.  I know that that doesn’t sound like a long time, but the past few weeks have been so stressful for me that it seriously felt like months.  After I made the four hour drive back to Midland on Friday morning, I paid a visit to my dog, a 15-year-old blue tick hound named Daisy, in the backyard, and collapsed on the couch.  My family was still at school and work, so I did a bit of homework and waited.

Fast-forward a few hours.  My parents and brother are home, my dad’s made steak fingers and gravy (From scratch. Sorry, had to brag.), and we’re gathering around the table to eat dinner together.  This is how my family has always eaten, aside from nights when orchestra or sports have caused someone to be absent.  Growing up, I was always amazed to learn that some of my friends often ate in front of the television, or at different times than the rest of their family.  I consider myself incredibly lucky to have grown up with the tradition of sitting down and talking with my parents and brother every evening over dinner.

My favorite part of eating with my family has always been the conversation.  We typically start out by simply telling everyone how the day went, but as the meal progresses, things always get more fun.  This is where the humor comes in.  The atmosphere is completely informal, and the conversation turns into something of a free-for-all, with jokes and witty exchanges (usually at each other’s expense, but always in good spirit) flying in every direction.  At least once a week, I’ll find myself laughing so hard that tears are streaming down my face by the time the meal ends.

My all-time favorite memory of family dinner, however, is the time that my dad, my brother, and I had a food fight, much to my mother’s frustration.  Even though it happened years ago, many of the details are still fresh in my mind.  We were eating meatballs with potato dill sauce, and my dad had jokingly flexed the serving spoon back, threatening to fling some of the sauce across the table at me.  The fight began when the spoon slipped, and potato dill sauce splattered both me and my brother.  After that, and despite my mother’s protests, it was time for revenge.  I won’t bore you with all of the gory details, but suffice it to say that eventually, bananas that had gotten just a bit too soft to eat came into play.  Cleaning up afterwards was a relief, and my mother saw to it that we did so thoroughly.  We still all love to laugh about that night.

I love eating and talking with my family because they all share my sense of humor.  It’s always a good time because we all understand what sort of things make the others laugh.  Whether it’s everyday conversation or a food fight, dinner with my family is definitely one of my favorite things.