Anti Sandwich Snarfing Maneuvers

Micah started eating all his meals in front of the TV a very long time ago. We fought it at first, forcing him to join us at the dinner table, but we soon realized why the baby in the family is so spoiled. Seriously, the boy is eating. Is it worth a forty minute screamfest to make him eat where we choose vs. where he wants to? We have no problem letting him eat in front of the TV for snacks and his own impromptu meals, so why make it a fight when the rest of the family eats a meal? It's just so not worth the effort.

Of course, since we decided that where the boy eats is irrelevant, our family has somehow fallen out of the habit of nightly dinner around the table. It's sad, and we sometimes miss it. And when we miss it, or if I remember, we gather around the table again. A few shocking things happen when I set the table for a meal. The teens gather for dinner with no fussing at all. Micah will turn his movie off and excitedly join us at the table. And the kids will sit and talk long after the meal is over. It's like magic. Very special family magic. I love it.

But even knowing this, we still don't eat dinner around the table every night. And Micah still eats in front of the TV. And we have daily struggles over this. While we really don't care where the boy eats, we do care if he walks away from his plate and lets the dogs clean it up. Nothing irks me more than dropping everything to make him a sandwich, only for a four legged shedding machine to snarf it up while Micah runs back into the kitchen for a drink. My cries of, "put your plate on the coffee table" generally fall on his selectively screened ears.  It remains on the floor, and I keep a vigilant eye on the pack of canines milling around in the living room.

The other day, after I fixed him a sandwich, he laid it on the floor in front of the TV and returned to the kitchen to get a drink. I instantly looked in the direction of the living room to take inventory of the dog pack. They were milling around in front of the TV, sniffing underneath the entertainment center. There was no plate in sight.

Dadgum those dogs, snarfing up Micah's sandwich, and then being greedy enough to push the plate under the stand while trying to lick the crumbs. And yet, instead of just jumping into making Micah another sandwich, I watched as he took his drink back to the living room, parted the sea of dogs, and pulled his plate out from under the TV stand. His sandwich was waiting for him, completely untouched.

I never fail to underestimate that boy.