thoughts of dinnertime

shared by Marlo R. Beall, her sister

Last Sunday morning, Andrew and the girls finished breakfast before me, and I found myself sitting alone at the dining table. I childishly whined out to them, "I'm lonely!" So Andrew returned to the table and playfully sat there staring at me.

I told him that I was just kidding, and was just fine sitting alone. But it reminded me of the times while my sisters and I were growing up, when Cindy would occasionally find herself sitting alone at the dining table because she was not allowed to be excused until she finished all of her food.

I told Andrew and the girls about a specific image I had in my head, of Cindy just sitting quietly staring at her plate (or bowl), but not necessarily eating anymore. I don't think my sisters and I were allowed to sit with her, but I recall just keeping an eye on her from the stairs that overlooked our kitchen dining area, where she sat.

I don't know how long she had to sit there. But I have a feeling that she didn't end up finishing her meal. I don't think she was mad or sad, but just that she didn't want to eat anymore, and she was just willing to wait patiently until one of our parents said that she could finally be excused.