Elbows on Table
Growing into a man
When I was seven, I was out to supper with my mother and mother said take your elbows off the table.
We were with her friends and their husbands,
and the men laughed from their bellies, and their Adam’s apples spun
like water wheels.
They were raucous and armed
with money. And status.
And their elbows were bolted to the table.
Hey, I’m Roman. I’m working on my debut novel, 20xx, a work in magical realism. I write on Substack.
I don't know why but I love this so fucken much. I always heard, "Amelia Adams/ strong and able/ get your elbows/ off the table." But they never chided the men for doing it. Hate that stupid rhyme- this one struck a cheeky chord.
Yes I learned the same thing, at the same age. Grandpa only told me once: "Elbows don't belong on the dinner table." Not that it only took one time telling me, nope, I made some repeated attempts, but each attempt was met with the lightning fast poke of Grandpa's fork to the offending elbow. He didn't hurt me, it was more scary than felt... you know, like the immediate fear that hits you when you see a snake rear back and then strike you faster than lightning.
Oh, yeah you probably don't know that... I guess most people wouldn't know it unless they got bit by a snake. :-) Years later I got to know a snake that quickly, and I've got to say it seemed like Grandpa teaching me a lesson all over again.