A Corner Table

Have I mentioned that I hate change? Those of you who know me well, will know that, at least.

Jessi and I started a “play date” of sorts over 4 years ago. Ty and Chloe were still in their Graco infant car seats, not even old enough to take part in the playing. Eli, Ashton, and Kaelin toddled around... Eli still in love with The Wiggles, Ashton still in curls, Kaelin’s hair still falling in wings. Barely old enough to walk, much less play together. And yet they loved each other. And, probably (ok, well definitely...), Jessi and I used the whole “play date” thing as a way to get some sanity.

Ty and Chloe choked on their first french fries on those play dates. Potty trained, learned to climb, played American Idol, shared their first little kiss.



Missy joined us over a year ago. I, of course, already having established that I hate change, wasn’t sure how I felt about that. It turned out to be one of the best things that could have happened to our circle, and to me.

That little corner table in Chick-fil-A has seen a lot. Too much. So much, in fact, that if it were human, we’d be forced to kill it. It’s seen a lot of laughter. Inside jokes, flirting, hysterical, insane *FREAKOUT* moments, drink spills, food spills, and quite possibly some blood spilling too.

Our table’s seen a lot of tears, as well. Probably more than any table has a right to. Tears over divorce, over fights, over unexpected pregnancy, and first days of school. Tears over birth, and death, and loss. Tears over broken hearts, broken promises, even broken nails if it caught us in the wrong week. It’s seen hugs, and cold shoulders, high fives, and fist pumps.


I’m going to miss my little corner table. It’s been a friend, a safe haven, a reason to get through the week. It’s helped forge two of the strongest friendships of my life.


And I’m still thinking maybe we should kidnap it... just to keep it from talking, of course.