Of Supper Time

Michelle Tanner - Full House

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I truly loathe being the only person eating in a room. Especially, when everyone else has recently finished eating and I showed up just in time for washing dishes. I can just feel eyes burning down on me. I know that they aren’t thinking anything awful – but jeez is it ever uncomfortable.

My family has a tendency to start supper without me. I’m not talking the normal 6 pm dinner that, in theory, most people take part in on a daily basis. I mean supper supper. A Midwestern supper full of Norwegians, to be specific.

Supper starts on average around 3 pm – definitely not much later than 4 pm. The whole family (grandparents, uncles, and all), sit down at a table full of hot dish, some form of meat, potatoes, lefse if we’re lucky, and of course, Jello. Personally, orange fluff Jello is my favorite. I’ve never cared much for the plain strawberry Jello with marshmallows on top that my brothers always voted for. Anyways …

Even though we all live in the Pacific Northwest now, those traditions still reign true when it’s time to eat with the ENTIRE family.

But here’s the issue. I work basically every stinking day of the week. So I don’t get home until 5 pm. Thus, when it’s time for a good ole fashion supper, I get home just when Grandpa finishes his last bite. And because they are VERY Norwegian, they keep offering me food until I say yes.

It’s impossible to not eat when surrounded by a bunch of Norwegian’s who are convinced your hungry. You have to say yes to something or Grandma will ask you every thirty seconds if you want food or drink. Once you say yes, they quite eagerly prepare your plate. Set it in front of you. And stare at you until the plate is finished.

Always awkward.

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