Growing up, Steve and I ate dinner very differently. His folks would tuck into their meals silently. The food would all be on the table with place mats, and they would all hunch over their plates and just eat.

In my house, my mom would be moving back and forth between the table at the stove putting food on the table. For years, I thought that moms didn't eat. My dad would be conducting family conversation. He would tell stories about growing up, and the kids would all compete for attention. Sometimes he would use dinner time as an opportunity to teach us stuff. For months, he made us memorize the presidents in order holding up flash cards of their faces. We would chant, WashingtonAdamsJeffersonMadisonMonroe and so on.

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