Toads-in-the-Hole

Recently, Adelaide began mimicking our mastication during our mealtime. She’d purposefully open and close her mouth in rapid-fire succession while watching a spoonful of green peas or a forkful of cheesecake move from the plate to our mouths. Her “chewing” would become even more passionate as we chewed. We decided that interesting behavior ought to be rewarded, and thus Adelaide was invited to join us at the table.

Perhaps it’s because my formative years (before age three) were spent mostly in the company of adults, but I don’t believe in relegating the youngest to a card table in the kitchen while elders sip, smack, and slurp in a more formal atmosphere. Just like learning a particular language, table manners and dining room politics are an important part of our socio-cultural quirks. Don’t you remember taking French in high school and learning the names of the plate (L'assiette), the fork (la fourchette), and the napkins (les serviettes) AND learning how to set the service à la française? So, I think it best to introduce Adelaide to these idiosyncrasies and civilizing patterns early on in her life.

We’d been generously endowed with a modular high chair by a birth-day benefactor, so little preparation was required – other than removing the seat from its box and strapping it securely to one of our kitchen chairs. In lieu of actual foodstuffs – which Adelaide won’t be invited to try until she solves the mystery of the whole hand-to-mouth thing with her pacifier – she plays with her board books, beads, or Goldbug during mealtimes. Often she adds to the conversation, inserting her opinion on the evening’s agenda, offering her tips on childcare, or relating the excitement of a backward roll across the living room floor from earlier in the day.

And this chair travels, so watch out! Soon Adelaide may be found at a supper table near you!