There’s that once-in-a-lifetime moment when you are moved to song, and you find that someone or something that makes meaning of everything and the world is right because of that person or object. Let me tell you this story you’ll want to read: it’s the most accurate love tale of ‘em all. It’s not your average story, so be prepared to stretch your brain while you read.
My family loves me like a zany lovelorn loon loves his mate. At least, I thought so until I heard them talking about getting rid of me. I laid it on thick and asked Alexa to play Paul Anka’s “Time Of Your Life,” hoping they would take the hint. Of course, you, my love, stood around me as my biggest fan embracing me so they would see our connection. It seems to be that it’s so far, so good!
This illustrious and musical family would not consciously admit that they thought about me, let alone that they loved me, but you see, they do. The constant at every function, I stand the entire time holding their plates on top; while below my centre leg that runs my full length and is permanently a fixed piece of my main frame is like an automatic go-to spot for their feet. I’m always at the centre of the action, no matter what that entails, but it constantly involves the family, me, and, of course, you, my true love!
I have seen, heard and felt it all along with you! As the Director of Math, Arts and Basic Necessities and the Entertainment package coordinator of endless board games and card games, we have been through many hours of fun. That’s why I am so shocked by their contemplation to change me out, so all of a sudden! I mean, standing here for twenty-two years supporting their every whim has to count for something, and with my closest ally, you in tow, even I remain perplexed?
That’s why a shiny new waxed table of hardwood with soft cushioned chairs to match might look nice and handsome, but it is not practical and can never serve the family as we do! My chairs and I cater and deliver all the family needs all the time without fail. A brand new table would have to figure it out, and it would take some time; the family has already grown accustomed to us and wouldn’t like to figure it all out again with a new table. I don’t recommend it at this time, no, not at all. Because you, my dear friend, would have to embrace another table. Do you think you want to do that? Are you ok with that?
My chairs match as their colours are auburn like the autumn harvest, and orangey with reddish hues with some freckles of burnt wood and watermarks. Some of the chairs have scuff marks that record the mishaps that may have occurred over the years. And my top boasts rings where hot dishes have been placed without a trivet, and the wax was heated too quickly so that the rings are white like snow. This kind of stuff makes an explicit family dining table a member of the family and an entrusted fixture in a home. Not to mention the room in which these occurrences occur every time. My dining room is where I have found my most faithful friend and love in you.
Twelve can easily sit without any bother at my table. Ten along my sides and at one at either end ever since my extensions were installed. My legs are wide and tall, resembling elephants’ legs, except they have two decorative grooves along the front face. Those grooves look like the trail a marble leaves after it rolls in the sand. But, of course, you already know that since we have known each other for twenty years and we work so well together as a couple.
Twice as long as wide, I am a perfect rectangle, holding several elbows in my time. I’ve been: table clothed on, cut on, slopped on, hot glue gunned on, place matted on, trivetted on, Barbied on, tutored on, and played games on for hours. We’ve been through it all together, thick and thin, and I just can’t see you with another table at this point.
The family cat consistently basks in the sun on my flat top in the mid-morning sun, while the family remains much happier to be eating here with me rather than going out elsewhere. Every Friday, the oldest two family members, who have moved out, return with their partners to eat pizza as a family. Fresh, homemade pizza that I serve up on my top, along with their favourite cocktails, as they catch up on their week and enjoy a game afterward.
Those years with the family have seen three generations, graduations, birthdays, first communions and many family dinners. What grand times to be in the household with you as an inseparable pair! Since I’m Norwegian wood (isn’t it good!), my wood is soft hardwood, and my scars are there if you look hard to show that I've lived on and used it regularly. Maybe boasting the aftermath of a spoons game gone haywire.
I have been around at the fun times in life and thrive today because of it! That’s how I know they love me like a zany lovelorn loon! I remain hopeful that I will stay the table of their choice because it is with you that I find the comfort of living, dining room! I hope you feel it too. If you love me too, let me know! And that’s when I ask Alexa to play Paul Anka’s “Time Of Your Life” to you, my beautiful dining room and long-term friend!
The Dining Room Table
Well, didn’t I tell you that it wasn’t your average tale of love? But didn’t I also say it was a once-in-a-lifetime moment when you are moved to a song? In this case, the dining room table dedicates Paul Anka’s “Time of Your Life” to the Dining Room. Such a lovely and actually perfect match. Maybe Paul Anka was famous twenty years ago? Who knows? That concludes the storytelling for today's story, folks. Thank you.