Dinner

We have this rotating schedule of whose house we go to each Sunday night. At least one of the people there is, or was, a firefighter. That's the only constant.

I think some people think they HAVE to play the role of parent. Even though we're connected to the fire department through Topher, nobody ever acts like an older brother. Always a parent.

The dinners I like best are the ones where they just talk regularly to us. Because some people are over-nice and talk to us like at any moment we might burst into tears. They tiptoe around anything that has to do with death or fires or mothers or anything. This is mean but it gets tiring reassuring people all the time.

Then there are other people who decide we lack structure and decide to teach us manners. No matter what we do or how nicely we behave, they will always make us feel like we're wild and one second away from blowing up. We could be all please and thank you and napkins in lap and no elbows on the table and no talking with food in our mouths and they'll still tell Danielle to sit up straight.

I like the people who've known Topher and us for a long time. Who just let us be, who teach us blackjack before dinner, who let Alex cut things with sharp knives, show us pictures of them from high school, and just ... make us feel like we're at home. Instead of making us feel like we can't wait to get back home.

I like the Italians best, even though it's wrong to say that. Where we walk in and it smells like our grandma's house, where everyone is loud and yelling and we're encouraged to be loud and yell also. Not like going to Irish people's homes, where they want us to drink milk with dinner and push us to go to church.

Tonight Alex helped make chicken parm, real garlic bread, salad, and homemade ice cream. She had a birthday party in the afternoon that was nearby the fire family for tonight, so they picked her up from the party and Dani and I went over later.

On the way to the train home, Alex said it dinner was really easy to make and asked me to buy chicken so she can make it again. We aren't going to do homemade ice cream obviously, but maybe we can get italian ices instead if I can save enough.