If this table had ears....

Tis rather remarkable the adventures this table has felt. The food it has held, the bodies it has supported, the messes is has been covered in, the games and imaginations where is has played part, but the best quality of our family dinner table is the funny range of noises its wood components can make. It has been hit with drumsticks and brooms and banged with spoons, colored pencils, and spaghetti. Many a glass bowl and glass has been launched upon a maiden voyage from this table to spread throughout upon the tile floor. Often the small, dangerously tempting pieces of a board game have spilt their contents upon the table’s kindly surface. And always, it is the sound board of all the marvelously interesting sounds of my home.
If tapped like a maple tree, and the musical sound sap compiled in to the recognizable shapes of recorded music scores, this table would keep the percussion section ridiculously busy. The tinkle of glass, the gush of a splash of milk, the thudding patter of a child’s feet seeking escape from a parents grasp, the gurgling gaggle of green houses for Monopoly spilling out over this wooded field, all these are the common sounds in this sap.
But my family is far from common.
I have fond memories of gazing about during a meal and noticing a funny combination of humming a tuneless strain, the spazatic hum and jittering of conversations, and the subtle songs being sung to no particular audience at all. Often it is just this regular lull of sounds, but sometimes spontaneous cadences arise. Someone bangs the table with their fist, this in turn is followed by a tempo that could use a little work on being regular. Then various other rhythms join the chaos. The parts of the hand and body striking against the lovely tones of the several boards of the table provide endless opportunities for loud noises.
I have had many a happy bonding moment with my family members as we make obnoxious noise or music at the dinner table. But music in my home is a thing that occurs as frequently as living. We have parades throughout the house where we have outrageous apparel and grab whatever instrument is nearby and assure that no one is taking a nap. The few minutes at the end of 2009 I spent with my little brother delighting in all the noises we could make with boomwackers on the outside swing.
These musical moments comprise my memories and are the woodwork of my home. We all have some song running through our head and music follows us wherever we go. We act and believe that anybody and anything can create music, and that music should always be played. After all we spend a lot of time at the table.