I'll just entertain myself

Got mine this afternoon. I had no discomfort with this one either.

Just learned that Cookie Monster's name is Sid.

I'm a barbarian at the table. As a kid I ate everything with a spoon. I grew up still doing it without much thought about it. But when I try to switch to a fork it's such a clumsy experience I always revert to the spoon. Meat that isn't messy, I often eat with my fingers. I don't give a **** what Miss Manners would do.

We had to use a spoon at the table until we were six at which time we were given a fork. I have no idea why. Sort of like using a pencil in school until you learned to write at which time you were given a pen. We also had laced shoes until we were 8, then we were given buckle shoes. Weird family traditions.

I used to tie my laces so tight it caused them to fray and eventually to break. But they always seemed to come untied. Me with a literal mind - One day my stepfather saw me tying my shoes. "Tie them tight," he said. Since I already was tying them as tight as I could I assumed he meant to tighten the laces tight before tying them. I overtightened the laces for at least a year.

In Indonesia they eat primarily with spoons and fingers. At restaurants they don't even give you a fork.

True of Ethiopian restaurants. However, the food is conducive to eating with hands.

Oddly I’m being visited by an Indonesian friend at this time. He seems quite facile with a fork. He doesn’t fork around with his food.

As a runner, I used to have that lacing problem. I learned to double-knot the laces and that got rid of the problem. If I tightened laces too tightly, blood to my feet would get cut of or it got uncomfortable.

That's why it's good to carry a spork with you. Spoon on one end, fork on the other.

I love Indonesian food! Just went to a restaurant with some family members in Victoria and had the most delicious fish dish. Came home and tried to replicate the sauce. Didn't quite do it, but still great.

I use various spoons for different meals or dishes. If it needs a knife I cut it all at one time without messing around with this one bite at a time business. Possibly because there were twelve kids originally in the family and food hard to come by I learned to eat fast. I've tried to slow down but to no avail.

Indonesian food (yummy) has some different spices not common here in North America.

My father was a tyrant at the dinner table, weekends were a nightmare. Knives and forks had to be held in a particular way and I wasn't allowed to use the fork to scoop, peas had to be placed on the other side which meant it was really tricky getting the food in your mouth without everything falling off.

When the Kid was nine they spent a week with them. On return I was given do much sympathy for having to put up with that throughout my childhood.

I am nothing like my father. I was once introduced to someone who had worked with him. She said she was a bit dubious about talking to me at first because of my father but after talking to me she would never have guessed I was his son in a million years because we're nothing alike.

That's the nicest thing a total stranger has ever said to me.

Indonesian food (yummy) has some different spices not common here in North America. Nutmeg or mace, clove, pandan leaves, galangal, keluwak, etc.

Sometimes I’m amazed kids grow up reasonably well adjusted from tyrannical parents. It’s a tribute to your strength and perseverance. Not to mention, the rest of the family balancing things out as well as they could.

My stepfather bullied and ridiculed at the table - times he was home from three day drunks.

My father wasn't a drunk he was a disciplinarian. He played rugby at County level before I was born and he had a catastrophic accident, breaking his back.

That meant he was on a stick when I was born and on a considerable amount of pain medicine.

I think he resented the fact I am painless.

Thank you, it's very nice of you to say so, especially as you've seen me with my kids.

You’ve successfully raised two fine kids. That’s not easy task all things considered you did part of it as a single parent.

I can relate. My dad was a strict disciplinarian (non drinking) but for him it was hard because there was five of us when I was small … then 4 of us after age 5. He worked 50+ hours per week. The fact I made it relatively intact is a tribute to my foot speed and wit. At least when I was a teen he was in his mid-50s and somewhat mellower or worn down by my brothers and sisters.

My real father died in 1948. I didn't know until I bought my first computer and learned to search out family information. I guess I was between fifty and fifty-five when I found out. But it opened up a new gang of cousins, aunts, and uncles to get to know or at least learn about.