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Eat as a family

My mom was a working mother who got dinner on the table almost every night. The whole shebang too. Carefully folded napkins, fork, knife, even the spoon we never used, butter in a separate dish with a butter knife, matching water glasses, place mats, and beautiful serving dishes filled to the brim with whatever hot meal we were consuming that evening. 
During dinner, we talked and laughed, discussed politics, faith, you name it. After dinner, the kitchen was cleaned, made spotless and presentable for the next morning when the cycle began again. 
Sounds Norman Rockwell, huh? But that was my parent's generation when school, work, life in general made way for the family dinner.
I'm not sure where the breakdown occurred. I'd like to blame modern society and vaping and social media. I'd really like to pin this one on Trump. Alas, I cannot. 
I think I had it in me all along to break the cycle. While the family talked, I plotted, waiting for the perfect opportunity to slide …

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