So… picture this. Adult kids and young grandkids are circling the table, running around, “Gramma this!” and “Papa that!” and just general ruckus and finally, Papa had to bear roar and get them all to sit down. Paper plates of spaghetti and a special dessert treat. Milk, cider and water. It was just one of those quick dinners because exhausted grandparents.
So we’re eating, and I’m mildly amused by how the plates were tossed on the table, thinking about a wonderful high protocol dinner we attended recently and how wonderful it was. Everything went off so smoothly and in order. Nary a major glitch or faux pas.
So then one of the grandkids chirps up and starts talking about how we’re doing “fancy dinner” right now (because to an 8 year old and 4 year old, any dinner at the table is now considered “fancy dinner”… especially when wearing dress up clothes.)
I look at angie.
Me: So I missed the high protocol that needs to happen at fancy dinner! Where are the servants? The white tablecloth? The place settings?
Angie: This is kids protocol.
Me: Ah, where the plates are tossed at you and chaos reigns.
So there you have it… for your next high protocol dinner, use kids protocol and sling those paper plates!