Dinner time logic

We are sitting down, enjoying dinner. The kids have run off to dig a coin out of the toilet and are laughing so loud. But the dinner table is somewhat quiet and mellow – maybe because the commotion was somewhere else.

– I looove poverty food – said Mr.Blab while scoffing down another pile of polenta

– …Really? – I responded, knowing where that little chat will lead to – But you dont eat, like, innards and stuff, thats…

– I am not talking about poor people’s poverty food – he quickly interrupted me with a serious tone and we both start to snicker already, I am trying to quickly swallow the food I had in my mouth

– I am talking about…

– Ameri… – I am already laughing on his shoulder at this point.

– American people poverty food! – and he joins me in the fully fledged laughter.

And we giggle like crazy over our dinner with polenta on the side and I am sure nobody else will understand why we did so, but its our thing. One cant just grasp in a second the history we have made and the meanings we have weaved in it. Its our thing to know how much Mr.Blab loves the term poverty food and how even though we both come from poor backgrounds, his poor cannot even compare to my poor, so I give him a hard time whenever he delves into the issue.

The complexity of the situation was proven when the kids joined us and were trying to figure out why mom and dad were laughing so much and after we tried to reenact the episode we were met with stares that meant “Why in the world is this funny, and should I be worried?”

And then we ate all the polenta. Mr.Blab and I with smiles on our faces.