Dinner with Mo and Co

Dinner time at our house is a pretty average affair.  I make the dinner, I serve the dinner, I retreat somewhere out of the kitchen so I don't have to listen to the children discuss how they'd rather be eating sushi (Mo) or how they are "really, really, really thirsty" (Co).  Yes, I know the importance of family meal time, but truly, at 5:30, I'm not hungry. And yes, I could sit with them while they ate.  . .

Anyway, I got them squared away with the evening meal and I told them that I didn't want anyone popping up from the table unless they had to use the bathroom.  That might sound really ridiculous, but it peeves me to no end when I say dinner is ready and then they are up and down like Whack-a-Moles trying to show me how much of this they ate or how much that they pushed around to make it look like it's been eaten.  Just eat until it's gone or until you're full, and for goodness sake, leave the plate on the table. Don't carry it through the house, over your head no less, like a prize winning game animal you took down.  When you're done, sit back and digest for a bit.  Then we'll talk seconds (Mo) or dessert (Co).

I heard the scraping of utensils on plates and the occasional stunned, "This is really good!" coming from the table.  Then it got really quiet.  For a really long time.

So, I poked my head around the corner and saw this:

Death by Chicken Picatta? 

Uh. . .what's going on here? Are they praying for ease of digestion? Trying to figure out how to get dessert?   Did they fall asleep? I know it put some wine in the picatta sauce, but it wasn't that much.  I was stumped.  Then I decided to look under the table. . .

Look at my little bookworms!  There is nothing wrong with that.  Dessert all around!