Kitchen table

I distinctly remember the kitchen tables in my life. My first kitchen table had plastic tubing around the side which competed against the orange vinyl chairs. Then there was the table at the lake that was blinding in the afternoon sun, but excellent for dealing a card game. When I got older my parents upgraded to an Amish oak table, which was a far cry from the previous table. Both of my grandparents had large dinning room tables. Everyone always heard the tale of a flying object scratching the dining room table. There is lots of furniture that can come and go from our life, but the table is the piece of furniture that can hold so many memories.
As I look at my kids I wonder if they will remember the giant smily face Oma put out on the floor to protect her carpet under the table. Will they remember climbing up to my high top table? Will there be tales to be told of someone getting bonked on the head at the table, or hiding under it? I hope so. I hope my kids have great memories of the countless hours spent together as a family at the table. Time spent retelling our day, laughing, playing games, and being together.