when mom told me we’d be watching the hockey game during dinner rather than sitting outside at the table i’d set in attempts to be helpful. it just kind of happened, and it seemed irrational. i couldn’t have been that upset about wasting five minutes to set a table and turn on the heaters, but maybe the lack of apology or acknowledgement of my effort to help was disappointing. those actions often go unnoticed, though.
it’s probably because i’ve been thinking a lot about material things recently, about how it’s a sacrifice to give them up as the life i plan to lead will require, but how other things are of far surpassing worth. it was sad to think that a sharks game, even though it’s the opening game of playoffs, could take precedence over a family dinner and sobremesa. that’s not how i was raised, right? eating together was always a priority. until the kids started doing all of their sports and stuff. then someone was always gone, or leaving early, or coming late, or maybe the parents were at a baseball game and i was left to fend for myself food-wise.
i miss the times when it was all of us, together, no matter what. let not this culture that tells us to consume—things or entertainment or success—crowd that out.