The Grown-Ups' Table

This Christmas, Hugo Rose’s dream of joining the grown-ups’ table would become a reality. Even though he was related to everyone at the kids’ table, he didn’t know how to relate to anyone at the kids’ table. It didn’t help that besides being the oldest among the kids, he was also an old soul. He preferred Gilbert and Sullivan over memes. He would rather read the works of Henry David Thoreau than perform a ridiculous TikTok dance. 

Hugo’s personality, unfortunately, made him a target for his cousins, specifically self-described Sigma male Grayson. Last year, Grayson and another cousin tormented Hugo as they declared a “Fanum tax” before stealing food from Hugo’s plate. When he complained, they told him he was so Ohio. “Ohio is not an adjective!” Hugo hissed at his cousins, who laughed at his frustration with not understanding Gen Alpha slang. 

This year was going to be different. Hugo recently turned 18, and his dad promised he would have a seat at the grown-ups’ table. No longer would he have to deal with the brainrot, but instead, he would have the opportunity to engage in meaningful conversation. 

Unlike other kids his age, Hugo spent Christmas morning studying current events with the New York Times subscription his dad got him for his birthday. He was so focused on learning everything he could about the economy that he overlooked the early Christmas gift his dad, Ryan, left on his nightstand by the equally ignored clock. 

When it was time to go to their Christmas dinner, Ryan was surprised to see Hugo still in his pajamas. 

“Why haven’t you changed?”

“I always go in pajamas.”

“Oh, son, I thought you realized that we dress up for Christmas. We don’t force the kids, but now that you are joining the adults’ table, I assumed you were going to join the tradition.”  

Hugo felt a pit in his stomach. He sat on his bed, his head hung low and his face red as Rudolph’s nose. How did he miss something so obvious? And why is he fighting the urge to cry over pajamas? “I should’ve known better,” he choked. 

Ryan sat next to his son and gave him a big side hug. He noticed the unopened gift and picked it up. “I got you something that might help.”

Hugo shook the slim box but couldn’t hear anything. “Interesting,” he pondered. Hugo carefully removed the tape from the present and unfolded the paper with precision to avoid ripping the paper. 

“Gentle, just like his mom,” Ryan thought. He turned his face to wipe away the tears that escaped his eyes. 

Hugo opened up the box and pulled out a Peanuts-branded novelty necktie. It matched the one his dad was wearing. Beaming, Ryan squealed, “We can be tie twins!” 

Hugo hated the tackiness of the tie. Yet, seeing his dad’s excitement made the hideous tie gorgeous. He couldn’t wait to wear it. With a massive grin, Hugo dove into his dad’s arms. “Thanks, Dad. I love it. Tie twins!” 

***

The outfit change caused Hugo and his dad to be thirty minutes late for dinner. Hands full of gifts, they struggled to ring the doorbell. Grayson, Aunt Joyce's oldest son, opened the door. He wore polka dot pajamas his mom bought before his latest growth spurt. The design perfectly mirrored the pattern the acne produced on his face. Without offering to help, Grayson greeted the father-son duo with an eye-roll. “MOM! The late birds are here,” he squawked. 

A loud squeal came from the kitchen, followed by staccato footsteps. Joyce appeared wearing a tight forest green prom dress in matching forest green stilettos. She wiped her hands on a blue quilted apron that gave more of an 1840s prairie housewife vibe than went against her normal glamorous appearance. 

“Perfect timing,” she cried, “I just took out the ham.” She attempted to stand on the tip of her toes so she could give her younger brother a kiss on both cheeks. 

Her eyes caught her son pretending to gag at the public display of sibling affection. “Cut it out,” she demanded. She remembered it was the holiday season, and her tone softened… slightly, “Now go wash up for dinner and make sure all the other troublemakers are ready to eat.” Grayson performed his trademarked eye roll and departed to do as he was told. 

Aunt Joyce’s turned her gaze unto Hugo. “Let me see my little man,” she cooed as she removed the gifts from Hugo’s and stacked them on her brother’s arms. 

“C’mon, sis!” Ryan protested the increased load, but his sister ignored him. 

Joyce cupped Hugo’s gift-free hands. “You have gotten so big and SO handsome,” she purred. Hugo stooped a little so his aunt didn’t have to stand on her toes again when she went for the kiss. “The whole family is excited to see our newest adult!”

His aunt pulled Hugo by the arm towards the living room, where her three other siblings and their spouses were hanging out. He looked back to his dad, who was putting the gifts under the tree, and mouthed for help. Ryan replied, “Sorry, son. I got to get the last of the gifts from the car,” and escaped with a surprising quickness. Hugo’s eyes widened with the betrayal.  

Within moments of entering the living room, Hugo was passed around from family member to family member as if he were a bowl of dinner rolls. His cheeks were rosy from the aunties’ lipstick stains. There was only one person left to greet: his grandmother Mildred, the family's matriarch. 

“Be a gentleman and help your Mama Mildred to the dinner table,” Joyce voluntold Hugo. 

Mama Mildred was sitting alone on the sofa as if she were a gargoyle. She wore a red pantsuit adorned with a large brooch of a reindeer. Her red cane matched her outfit. Her steely eyes peered from behind her large, heart-shaped glasses. 

“Merry Christmas, Mama Mildred,” Hugo said as he bent to kiss his grandmother on the cheeks.

Mama Mildred waited several seconds before she responded. “Merry Christmas, Hugo. How is college?”

“Fine. Straight A’s so far.”

“I always told your grandfather, ‘That boy is smart. He’s gonna be something.’ I still think you should become a lawyer rather than a writer. Better use of your brain.” Mama Mildred looked at Hugo from head to toe. “Been eating well at school?”

“Yes, Mama Mildred. The school’s cafeteria is actually pretty good.” 

“I can tell by your bigger gut. At this rate, you're going to be fat like your father.”

Hugo tried to disregard the criticisms. “Dinner is about to start. Let me walk you over to the table.” He gave her his bent arm for support. 

“You're not a kid anymore, so take it easy with the portions,” Mama Mildred chided. 

Grandmother and grandson walked silently the rest of the way to the dinner table. After helping his grandmother to her seat, Hugo found his seat next to his dad. 

“Traitor,” Hugo whispered to his dad. Ryan responded with a half-hearted shrug. They both smiled at the exchange. 

CLINK CLINK CLINK

Joyce was standing up, tapping a champagne glass with a fork. Without the antique apron, a slight bulge was visible from underneath the form-fitting green dress. Hugo looked away from his aunt and saw his grandmother staring intently at his aunt’s stomach. 

Joyce began her welcome, “Merry Christmas, everyone! I am so glad we get to —”

“You can’t drink champagne if you're pregnant,” Mama Mildred interrupted. 

“Mama, please,” Joyce's voice cracked. She tried to hide her emotions like she had for most of her life. “I am not pregnant.” She took a deep breath. Her eyes narrowed as she sucked her teeth. There was a sharpness in her tone. “If you must know, the weight gain is a side effect of a medication.” 

Hugo looked around, wondering if anyone else was confused. His dad spoke up, “What’s the medication for?”

Joyce audibly gulped before she responded, “For my… my anxiety.”

Uncle Jerry mirthlessly laughed. “What are you anxious about? Your life is perfect!” Both his wife Laura and Joyce gave him a look that made him retreat into his wine. His second since Hugo arrived. 

Laura tried to smooth things over. “What my idiot of a husband was trying to say was that you are so strong. It is surprising that you need medicinal help.”

Now, it was Joyce’s husband who got involved. The ordinarily stoic man had heard enough and snapped, “Are you calling my wife weak?”

Hugo watched as his aunt tried to regain control. He was used to this type of behavior from the kids’ table but he never imagined grown-ups behaving this way. 

Hugo was also still reeling from the bombshell that his aunt, the woman whom he viewed akin to Wonder Woman, the woman who helped raise him after his mom died, was struggling with anxiety. The world seemed darker and heavier since sitting with the adults. 

As if his dad could read his mind, Ryan gave two reaffirming pats on Hugo’s leg to get his son’s attention. When they locked eyes, Ryan subtly lifted his hand up and down to remind his son to breathe. 

When calm once again settled at the dinner table, Joyce asked the newest addition to pray. Hugo silently shook his head. He didn’t prepare to say grace. He looked at his dad, who nodded. Ryan leaned in and whispered, “You got this, son. Show them how you deal with fear.”

“Dear God. Thank you for the food and this time together. Amen.”

“That’s it?” Jerry chimed in after the prayer was over. He hoped it went longer so no one would notice him adding more wine to his glass. His wife gave him a smack on the chest. 

Hugo was sweating. He had such high hopes that he would finally feel like he belonged at the grown-ups’ table. Now, he felt confused by the bickering and embarrassed by his prayer. Hugo thought it was time to bring out his secret weapon: world events.

“Pass the mashed potatoes, please. I am curious to hear everyone’s thoughts about how a ban on TikTok won’t address the real issue of privacy among tech companies?”

The table went still. Only the sounds of laughter from the kids’ table could be heard. 

Jerry, fueled by alcohol and his disdain for silence, was the first to break the tension. “What the hell are you takin’ about, kid?”

“I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking, sweetie,” Joyce chimed in. She pursed her lips, hoping she didn’t make Hugo feel ashamed. 

Hugo felt stunned. He could not comprehend how any grown-up could live in ignorance of what was happening in society. He looked at his dad, who gave Hugo a sheepish smile and suggested he try another topic. 

Before Hugo could discuss the war in the Middle East, Jerry snapped his fingers in an attempt to avoid further awkwardness. “You know who Hugo reminds me of? That neighbor from across the street. What was his name? Steven? Michael?”

“His name was James. James Peabody,” Mama Mildred said in between bites of her meal. 

The dinner conversation devolved into nostalgia sprinkled with passive-aggressive insults. Hugo wondered if he was witnessing what it truly meant to be a grown-up: remembering the things you did when you were young and holding on to the regret of the things you didn’t do when you were young. 

Hugo hoped and dreamed that the grown-ups’ table would be where he belonged, but he felt just as isolated as in previous years. Ryan was so caught up reliving the past he didn’t notice his son’s silent tears. 

Near the end of the meal, Grayson appeared. He told his mom that the kids had finished their food, and now he was wondering if it was ok for them to play Super Smash Bros on the Nintendo Switch. Despite his mother’s approval, he rolled his eyes before running to the kids' table to share the good news. Instinctively, Hugo pushed his chair out to join the cousins in a round of Super Smash. The game was the one place where Hugo’s skills could silence his cousins’ mockery. 

“Where do you think you’re going, mister?” Mama Mildred interrogated Hugo. Her steely eyes pierced Hugo’s soul. “You men clean up the tables, while the ladies prepare for the opening of the gifts.”

“And Mama gets the cushy job of supervising our work,” Jerry, who was on his sixth glass of wine, spat. His attempt to constantly stir the pot failed as the entire family was already focusing on cleaning, everyone except Hugo. 

The desire to be at the grown-ups’ table cost him an opportunity to still be a kid. The entire night had not gone as he envisioned. How did he not see the price of adulthood? Gobsmacked, Hugo muttered, “I should’ve known better.”

“Stop talking like that, Hugo.” Ryan rebuked. “Life isn’t about knowing. It’s about learning to respond well.” Hugo heard his dad say that a lot growing up, so the advice became background noise as Hugo’s mind drifted to the last chance to redeem the holiday — the presents. 

When the men finished cleaning, it was time to open gifts. Hugo hoped that he would get a good haul from his Christmas wishlist: cash, tickets to a musical, and board games. While the latter items would be nice, he needed the money as a broke college student. 

Everyone started with the stocking stuffers. Traditionally, only kids got them, but Joyce informed the family that Hugo should still get one until he was married. She usually stuffed the stockings with the kids' favorite candy. Hugo loved sour gummies and was anticipating a bag or two, but instead, he pulled out a bottle. They were still gummies, but the multivitamin kind. 

“So you can stay healthy,” Aunt Joyce beamed.

“Still too much sugar,” Mama Mildred added. 

Hugo ignored his grandmother and forced a quiet thanks to his aunt. 

Seeing his son’s reaction, Ryan discretely stole a Hershey’s Kiss from the nearest cousin and gave it to Hugo. “This isn’t stealing. We are helping Grayson with his acne,” Ryan murmured to his son’s delight. 

Afterward, the family opened gifts one at a time. Hugo looked at the pile and noticed his name was on fewer presents this year. In fact, he had about a third fewer gifts than in previous years. “Quality over quantity,” he reassured himself. 

Finally, Joyce handed him a gift from Uncle Jerry and his wife, Laura. He slowly removed the tape and heard his uncle, who was holding his eighth glass of wine and was beyond drunk, scream, “Faster! We ain’t getting younger.” Laura, resigned at her husband’s behavior, joined him in excessive drinking. 

Hugo opened the present and pulled out underwear. 

“Those are polyester boxer briefs,” Laura bragged. Hugo returned a smile that did not reach his eyes. 

The next gift Hugo opened was socks. Then, it was a gift card to the PlayStation store, which would have been nice had he owned a PlayStation. Eventually, he got: 

$100 PlayStation gift card 

4 button-down shirts

3 packets of socks

3 ties

2 packages of underwear

2 packages of undershirts

0 items from his wishlist

Hugo pretended he loved each gift. “He could have been an actor,” his dad thought, watching his son’s believable performance. However, Ryan knew his son. Hugo’s first Christmas as an adult was a bust. 

Fortunately, Hugo had one gift left to open, and it was from his dad. 

Hugo removed the tissue from the bag and pulled out a stuffed cow wearing overalls. There was a birth certificate in the bag for the stuffed animal. His name was Ol’ MacDonald. Hugo smiled as he loved that nursery rhyme. He and his mom would sing it together each night until she died. 

Not caring if it made him look immature, Hugo hugged the animal. He felt something hard in the cow's hoof and realized it was a voicebox. When pressed, an old recording of a female passably singing “Old MacDonald” played. 

“Who’s that?” Grayson asked. 

“That is Hugo’s mother.” Mama Mildred replied. Her steely eyes were now misty. 

“She would have been so proud of the young man you’ve become,” Ryan’s voice cracked. “There’s a card in the bag as well.”

Hugo took out the card. It had two ornaments on the front, and above it were the words, “I like hanging out with you.” Inside, Ryan wrote a Christmas wish for his son. 

Dear Hugo, 

I know you did not have the easiest childhood. You grew up way too fast after your mom died. I am so proud that you did not give in to the pain and fear but blossomed into this amazing young man. 

My wish for you is that you hold on to your childlike spirit. You may have an old soul, but stay young at heart. Stay curious. Stay humble. Stay kind. Stay open to new experiences. And never stop looking for joy. 

It is an honor to call you my son. 

Love, 

Your Dad

PS. There is a surprise in the overalls’ pocket. 

Through the tears, Hugo looked inside the pocket and pulled out two tickets to Matilda, one of his favorite musicals. There is a song in the show's second act where kids dream about all the amazing things they will get to do when they grow up. The song ends with Ms Honey, Matilda’s teacher, longing for when she finally grows up and has enough strength to face her fears. Recalling the song, Hugo wondered if his desire to sit at the grown-ups' table was always doomed to disappointment because there is no such thing as a grown-up. Maybe, we will always be children looking to be loved and to belong.

In front of everyone, Hugo and his dad hugged. One is never too old for a father’s love.