Just a Table

About two months ago we sold our dining room table to a guy Trey works with. It was our newly-married, no kids table. There was nothing wrong with it, but it was small and I was ready for something more... grown-up, I guess. Our friend is newly engaged and his fiance just moved down. He didn't have a dining room table and ours was perfect for them. So we sold it to them with the thoughts of using that money towards getting a new one for ourselves.

Ahem.. Public Service Announcement...
Dining Room tables are expensive!! Wowzers. We weren't finding anything we I wanted at a price we were willing to spend. I have never really thought much about using Craigslist before, but after seeing multiple friends score awesome finds, the light went off and I figured there was no harm in looking, right? After not much searching, I found exactly what I was looking for AND WAY MORE for a fraction of the price it would have cost us at any store.

That china cabinet came along with the table!!

We were both nervous about going to pick it up. Who knows what kind of people we were going to run into. Turns out it was the sellers' first experience with Craigslist as well and they were just as nervous. They were the sweetest couple and we ended up staying and chatting for about an hour and a half. Long story, but it was basically a meeting meant to happen. Seriously.

The sweet woman said they had been praying over the family that would receive the table. They raised 4 kids around this table and wanted someone to get it that would make even more wonderful memories around it. So, there we are, two woman that don't even know each other, crying over a table. Trey says he's never taking me out in public again.

But, I couldn't help it. She nailed it right on the head. To Trey (and most men.. hell.. maybe most people and I'm just a tad emotional) it's just a table. I don't look at it and just see a wooden table, though. See, it's the perfect size for normal, day-to-day lunches and dinners. But it also came with two leafs (leaves.. does this rule apply when it comes to tables?) and two extra chairs. Which means it's perfect for guests and big holidays. I picture years and years and years to come of holiday dinners and just normal meals when our kids want to have friends over for dinner. A place big enough to sit when we have family come to visit.

Sitting around the table is where we always, and always have growing up, gotten our best quality time in. No distractions to keep you from actually talking to each other. The rest of the world goes away. There's good food and laughter. Memories.

Eating dinner around that table last night made my heart swell a little bit with happiness. It was just the three of us eating and I sat and soaked it all in. Trey was amazed that Andrew was sitting in the chair by itself and didn't need any kind of booster seat. He's big enough. He looked like such a big boy sitting there using a spoon the way a normal human being uses one (don't laugh, that's been a big battle 'round these parts) and I imagined what the three of us would look like sitting at that same table.. even though it won't be the same home... ten, fifteen, and twenty years from now. I hope we still have the same fun conversations and goofy smiles on our faces.
I hope we still find things to laugh about every night. Last night, Trey and I were laughing it up because I took my end of the runner and pulled it towards me, moving his bowl and beer away from him. He then talked in his best loud, Boston accent asking where his fork and knife where. I know, the only one laughing right now is my mom, but that's the point. It's a family thing. For the past who knows how many years, that's been a big, happy memory for us. My parents always would start that pulling of the runner, teasing each other throughout dinner. I can picture there smiles and giggles now and it makes me smile from ear to ear.
The whole fork and knife thing reduces me to uncontrollable laughter still... remembering one particular Thanksgiving, probably 6 or 7 years ago, when we all sat down and my dad said, "where's my fork and knife?". Only, remember he lived in Massachusetts until he was in his mid to late 30's (right?) so it sounded more like, "Whea's my foikin knife?". It stopped us all in our tracks and we just started at him. He finally realized what it sounded like and he had to tell us what he really said. Steven and I laughed throughout the entire meal to the point where it probably got a little obnoxious.

So there you have it. While neither my husband or I have Boston accents and Andrew will never think we've dropped an F-bomb at the table, I'm sure we'll do something that will make him tell stories for the rest of his life. It's not just a table. It's a place to sit as a family and I hope we get a countless number of meals around it  for years and years to come!