The dinner table.

When I think of the family dinner table. I like to think of Will Ferrel's Saturday Night Live sketch "I drive a dodge stratus."

I come home from school, and sleep.

Then I am awoken by my father yelling at me to come to the dinner table.

This is usually how every day works.

I arrive at the dinner table, get my plate of food. 

We all sit down. 

A short prayer is said. 

Usually something like, "Thank you God for this food, and for this wonderful day." 

We are all very eager to eat.

Oh, the irony.

Usually I stuff my mouth with food, so I won't have to socialize. My mom says "Slow down, Zach!" My sister says something funny knowing that my mouth is filled with corn and fish sticks. I start frantically laughing and choking. My mom yells at my sister, "Stop Making Zach laugh!" I run to the trash and spit out my food. My dad usually ends the awkward silence that proceeds with something like, "How was your day? Or, "What did you learn at school today?" Usually my response to these questions are "Can't talk, my mouth is full." As I stare down at the plate of food in front of me I see my sister trying to make me laugh again but this time I manage to keep my composure. My mom usually starts ranting on and on about how the house is never clean. No one cares. All the while, Buster, our family idiot (dog) is jumping up and down scratching at the sides of the table in a desperate search for attention and more importantly food. Over the years, he has perfected his technique. Now instead of thieving our food, he sits on his hind legs, raises his paw and turns his head just enough so that you can see the little ASPCA commercial inside of him. I can hear Sarah McLaughlin's "In the Arms Of an Angel" going through my head. I want to cry. Suddenly, my fish stick seems less important to me. I slip it under the table. Then I realize the consequence of my actions. This is why he only goes to my seat at the dinner table when he begs. When all the food has been eaten off my plate, I stay for a while and try to relate with my family. My mom says something along the lines of, "My boss at work was telling me about a girl who has Maple Syrup Urine Disease." Everyone stops. No one is in shock, mom says things like this on a regular basis. She goes on and says, "It's a real disease! It makes your urine smell like Maple Syrup." I am scared. To my surprise it is real; I searched it on the almighty Google. I get up to leave but I slip and fall. The remainder of my Kool-Aid spills all over the floor. I feel ashamed, but I start laughing. My mom yells, gets the paper towels, and makes me wipe it up. My dad usually says something like, "Great job Zach." I don't appreciate sarcasm in my family. It is too overused. I have survived dinner. I feel accomplished. Now, I can leave.. *Sigh*