My family gets together for many occasions, such as birthdays, holidays or just to hang out.
Every Thanksgiving is at the home of my great aunt, Auntie Julia or Queen Bee. She is my grandfather’s sister. She is tall, smart, outspoken and very loving. As she states often, she is four score and seven.
We gather in the house she grew up in, a lovely wood-frame house with hardwood floors. And, yes, we have the table for the older generation and the table for the younger generation.
Each table is always set with beautiful tableware for the occasion with decorative touches, like holly, that her daughter Eunice has added.
Two years ago was no exception. I arrived early and witnessed a beautifully set table. Candles were lit at each table, with place setting, holly and rosemary. An added touch was place cards. I searched the “grown-ups” table to see who would be seated there. My youngest brother and his lady friend both were seated at the table. I was seated at the other table.
I’m not prone to causing trouble so I asked my cousin. She said, “I agree with you. You are the oldest and you should be at the ‘grown-ups’ table.” I moved my card to the grown-ups table and put my brother in a broken chair without a name.
Later my aunt looked at me and said, “Hehehe, I was just yanking your chain to see how you would react.”
Last year, I arrived fashionably late and noticed a spot open at the big table (my parents were out of town and so were both brothers). I plopped myself down and ate there and discussed various things with my aunt, Queen Bee.
My cousin said, “Yep, that’s how you do it.”
However, I noticed that my dinner guest and others of my generation were having a great time at the other table. The older generation was rather boring.
So, my curiosity satisfied I went to the other table and had a great time.
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