Before my parents divorced, my father made us ask to be excuse. I had bad allergies and sneezed a lot. I had to ask to be excused to go sneeze. If a sneeze snuck up on me, and I didn't have time to ask to be excused, I was asked to leave the table and not allowed to finish my meal (my mom usually snuck me food later that night). We'd get in trouble for elbows in the table, talking with food in your mouth, filling your mouth too full. You left had was always on your lap if you were not cutting something. You always held you fork/spoon in your right hand (hard for my oldest sister, since she was left handed). Needless to say, my father was a tyrant. Dinner was a very stressful time.
My kids never had to ask to be excused, but nine times out of ten, we all stayed at the table talking and left at the same time. The rule at our house is, if you make it you don't have to clean it. So, if Stephen and I made dinner, the girls cleaned. If they cooked, we cleaned. Sometimes, we all cooked and we all cleaned. Meal time when my kids were growing up was a great time. And, we never had the tv on. It was a time to connect and talk about our day. I cherish those memories.
