Meet Me at the Dinner Table — or Not

We’re told screens are ruining dinner, but eating alone might be worse

I have a beautiful round glass table that was supposed to bring us back together at dinner — no screens. Just us.

I spent hours searching for it before finally landing on one from Wayfair, part of the Kelly Clarkson collection. Having her name attached didn’t hurt. I remember when American Idol first launched, how I rooted for her week after week — alongside my brother in his apartment and my mother in hers. When she sang “A Moment Like This” with tears in her eyes, we all called each other, glee in our voices. It felt like something bigger was happening in America.

For me, that moment happened, ironically, over a TV dinner.

That was years before my son was born, and in some ways, not much has changed. I had every intention of keeping screens out of his early years. That didn’t last. My mother introduced the TV, and as grandmothers do, she didn’t exactly limit it. It became part of the routine before I really had a say in it.

Now he prefers to eat dinner with it on.

But he doesn’t act spoiled. He’ll turn it off without much protest to go outside. Sometimes we even eat out there, plates balanced on laps, while that beautiful kitchen table sits inside, mostly unused. I spent all that time finding it, and now it feels more like a reminder of who I thought we were going to be.

He rarely sits at it.

But he also never eats alone.

The Dinner Table Conversation

Even back then, we were connected — just not across the same table. We were connected through the TV, over dinner.

And it wasn’t forced. Not the “How was your day?” followed by “Okay, yours?” Not the awkward pauses or the clanking of forks hitting ceramic plates while you shove your mouth full of food just to avoid saying anything at all.

This conversation was different. It was lively, spur-of-the-moment — something each of us, my mother and my brother, had invested in over months, all of us rooting for a stranger to win a singing competition like it actually mattered. And it did — just not for the reasons we thought.

Staying Connected

It’s all about connection.

A stale conversation about nothing doesn’t suddenly become meaningful just because it’s happening at the table, so why force it?

“Well, we’re movin’ on up …” just not to the east side — more like over to the TV. And definitely not to watch The Jeffersons. My son is into reptiles and ants, so we’re usually watching something we both enjoy — Snake Discovery on YouTube. When he visits my mom, they watch America’s Got Talent, sharing their predictions, feelings and wishes over dinner in front of her TV.

Scattered as we all might be — and as wary as we are of plopping ourselves in front of screens — there’s nothing better than a connection like this. A moment like this.

If you’re interested in more thoughts like this — the small shifts, ideas, and moments that shape how we approach food and family — you can join me in my weekly column, The Edit on Substack.