Kitchen Table

I've always had a fascination with the way life tends to revolve around the kitchen table.

As a kid, I remember visiting my Mimia (that's grandma to y'all), and playing cards for hours at the table just outside her kitchen. It was at one of my best friend's kitchen table that my hair was teased and twisted into an unforgettable bee-hive for prom. Most of my homework for college was done at the table.

A couple years ago I hosted a murder mystery at a friend's house. Two living rooms. Plenty of space. Where did we end up? Around the table. This spring, the same friend had a wedding shower at her house. Way more people. Still, most of the fun centered around that same wonderful table.

The other day we had a party for Grandpa at his neighbor's house. It was rainy and windy, so Plan A: Patio was changed to Plan B: indoors. There were a lot of people, spread throughout the house. Yet it seemed the most interesting conversations were cooked up in the kitchen.

Last night my aunts and I sat up talking and sharing way past midnight - you guessed it - around the kitchen table.

I am sure there's some really easy-to-figure-out psychology for that. Something about warmth, comfort, food, and community. I'm sure there's at least one novel or collection of stories centering around the kitchen table. If there isn't, there should be. Maybe we should put one together.