The "kids' table" might be a purely American phenomenon, but I suspect that every culture has its version. The concept is simple. At any sort of massive event (Thanksgiving, wedding, grandma's birthday,...), there's the dining table for the adults that's laid out with the proper linen, the best crystal, the matching silverware and the immaculately carved roast beast.
Meanwhile, one room over, there's a rickety card table with six mismatched chairs, paper plates and hot dogs. That's for us kids.
In my family, this was supposedly a temporary exile. Once you were Bar or Bat Mitzvah'd, you were an adult (says GOD) and were therefore definitionally worthy of the dining room. Alas, that bar kept shifting higher and higher. The simple fact was, no matter how old I got, I was still the youngest in the family. Until the next generation came along, it would always be the six of us and our paper tablecloth.
At the time, I was boiling with the injustice of the situation. I had adult conversation! I knew big words and had a spelling bee trophy to prove it! Why did I go through the pain and trauma of wearing my best (only) collared shirt if I was only sitting with (gasp) other kids?
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