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Thanksgiving Conversations Moms Imagine Happen at the Kids' Table

Ah, Thanksgiving. After a long day of roasting turkeys and toasting yams and removing jellied cranberry sauce from the can, most moms just want to sit down and eat in peace. And as luck would have it, Thanksgiving often happens to be the one day each year when parents do get to eat a meal in peace — with ALL GROWN UPS.

That's thanks to the Kids' Table.

See, in large families, children traditionally dine at a rickety card table in the living room during holiday dinners, because the Big Table is too crammed with aunts and uncles and grandparents and mothers who want to spend one stinking meal cutting up their own food while it's still warm without their much-needed glass of wine getting spilled.

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So, dinner is served at the Kids' Table, and then the adults retreat to the relative safety of political discussions and football-related arguments at the Big Table. You'd think chaos would reign among the children with no parental supervision, but it's often surprisingly civil — leading moms to suspect that it's during Thanksgiving dinner when many of their kids' most devious holiday plots are hatched. So, if things seem a little too quiet over at your Kids' Table this year, maybe it's because they're having conversations like these:

Emma: Any word on why we aren't allowed to have dessert first?

Mason: Not yet; our parents are completely unreasonable.

Emma: Agreed.

Mason: Have you noticed this breadcrumb stuffing matches the carpet? You can hardly see it down there.

Emma: Thanks for the tip. I'll put mine on the floor, too.

Mason: Yes, they won't notice until they step in it when they bring us our pie.

Emma: Perfect.


Jacob: I found the Christmas presents, already addressed "From Santa."

Billy: In their bedroom closet behind your mom's dresses, I presume?

Jacob: Same every year. Adults are so predictable.

Sophie: What do you mean, "already addressed from Santa?" Santa's presents aren't delivered until Christmas Eve, remember?

Jacob: That's adorable. We need to talk.


Abigail: My mother asked me to help her make dinner again.

Mia: What is it with mothers? Can't they do anything by themselves?

Abigail [sigh]: It seems to mean a lot to her. She took at least 100 pictures of me mixing mashed potatoes.

Mia: There's no stopping them.

Abigail: I always flip food out of the bowl, pout, and add a ton of salt even though she told me not to touch the salt. You'd think she'd quit letting me in the kitchen.

Mia: Right? As if we were going to eat vegetables anyway.


Isabella: You're looking well.

Hannah: That's kind of you to say. I feel like my cheeks are flushed.

Isabella: Did Grandma pinch them when you arrived?

Hannah: Naturally.

Isabella: Me too. I'm going to pee on her lap later.

Hannah: Marvelous. Can you come and get me first? I would love to see that.


Liam: No one's paying attention to us.

Madison: True. They seem to be enjoying themselves at the big table.

Liam: Shall I kick you?

Madison: No need to actually do it. I'll just scream and accuse you, crying as if you've broken my shin.

Liam: Excellent. That should get them over here.

Madison: What if they try to go sit down again before their food is ice cold?

Liam: Good point. I'll create a diversion.

Madison: Like throw a fit?

Liam: Or throw my entire plate of food.

Madison: Classic.

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Jayden: I suppose they're going to do a group family photo after dinner again this year?

Noah: I assume so. What's the plan?

Isabella: Since they've gone to such great lengths to coordinate our outfits, I'll take off my dress and refuse to wear anything but my tights and my winter hat.

Noah: Perfect. I'll look anywhere but at the camera.

Emily: Good — I can make a silly face.

Jayden: No, you did that last year. How about spontaneously sobbing as soon as the entire family is assembled and the camera timer is set?

Emily: Consider it done.

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