An Ode to our Dining Table

The day my wife and I decided to buy a table, we went to a discount furniture warehouse that’s torn down now. As our life has grown, so has Clark County and there’s now a tilt-up building, office space of some kind, in that spot and I would guess most people driving by don’t remember there was a furniture store there. 

Jessica had a table already but I wanted to pick one out together. We had just bought our house in Battle Ground and we were about to get married. I wanted a new table for our new house to start our new life together. Kitchen tables are eternal; they just go on forever and I knew if we didn’t get one then we never would. 

We were talking about it tonight, and neither one of us remembers much about the different options or choices. The big question was what height: regular or pub? We decided on standard since we figured that kids who were hoping to have someday would have a hard time with a tall table. It had to have a leaf or two and at least eight chairs. At the time, the leaf made the table seem so huge, but four kids later it just seems normal.

Shortly after we got home from our honeymoon, we had some friends over for dinner. I was just learning how to BBQ and in my excitement slapped some bacon down with the hamburger patties. The grease quickly turned into a raging fire and I was terrified I was about to burn my house down. But I also didn’t want to scare my brand-new wife. I looked in the window and saw my friend Curtis sitting at the table. I quickly grabbed him to come outside and help me get the fire under control and salvage the rest of dinner. 

We’ve had fancy dinners around our table, holiday dinners, take-out dinners, breakfast-for-dinner dinners, etc. Another special memory that comes to mind, but I’m fuzzy on the details, is I remember eating Burgerville out of the bag really late at night with Jessica’s Grandma. She must have been in town for the bridal shower or baby shower, but I just remember sitting around eating mushy french fries and burgers out of the bag.

Having kids to sit at the table is the best though. I remember when Ruby was a tiny baby, we had friends over and Ruby let out the loooooongest fart. Everyone just laughed and laughed because babies can do that at the table. I can still picture Willa as a baby sitting on the table in the Bumbo seat, her wild hair sticking straight up everywhere, learning how to eat mush. Sylvie falls asleep at the table on a regular basis. Sometimes she curls up in a ball on her chair and sometimes she flat out puts her face down on the table and konks out. George has the best view right now from his highchair and loves watching the cows and goats from his spot at the table.

We brought the same table with us when we moved from Battle Ground to the farm in Ridgefield. Our current house has large picture windows around the dining area. They let in a lot of light and face east which makes the table a great spot to watch a beautiful sunrise. Everyone has a view of something, but no one can see the exact same thing. It’s hard to get through a meal right now without someone seeing something cool and shouting, “Look at that!” The next thing you know, everyone else is up, out of their chairs, trying to see whatever the excitement is about. We’ll get everyone settled back to their chairs and start to eat again when someone sees something else exciting (distracting) and it starts over.

Tonight we were eating dinner and we kept seeing and feeling ants. We couldn’t figure out where they were coming from as there was no ant trail visible on the floor or wall. Someone looked up, and they were falling out of the ceiling, out of the light fixture, and dropping onto the table. So tomorrow we have to figure out how to fix the ant situation in our attic. The thought of ants literally dropping out of the ceiling and onto our dinner will probably be a funny story later even though it’s annoying right now.

Of all our furniture and all of the purchases we’ve made as a family, our table has been the most meaningful and the most used. Houses, vehicles, and couches have all come and gone but our table remains. The chairs keep falling apart and the top is eternally sticky, but it just might be too sentimental to replace.

Brett Haberman lives on a farm in Ridgefield, WA with his wife and four little kids. He is a life-long entrepreneur, jack of all trades, and trailer enthusiast. Currently he sells retired wine barrels and barrel crafts next to Birkenstock Northwest.