Dining tables are for talking across

AS the size of televisions increases, dining tables get smaller.

This is a natural law, like the one that says everything in the world may contain traces of nuts.

I’ve even seen peanut packets that state it, which is a relief, I suppose.

But it’s sad about the dining tables. We are approaching the point of no return, when at least one wall of every house won’t need plastering because it will be floor to ceiling, corner to corner plasma screen.

And the dining table will fit in the doll’s house.

This is because we have misunderstood the role of the dining table. People think they’re for eating at, and as everyone now eats in front of the television, the dining table has become merely firewood.

But this is wrong! Dining tables are for talking across. They are for yelling at your children that it’s time they bucked their ideas up or they’ll find themselves out on the streets.

They’re for sarcastically pointing out to your husband that there’s really no need to spread tomato sauce on a curry. They are for all the unofficial complaints about the Council and the government and that joke about the Irishman, the Scotsman and the Australian.

And yes, I suppose they’re for discussing My Restaurant Rules and Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, may God help us.

But because we’re so busy watching television (even across mealtimes) there’s actually no time left for talking.

In some families this is a Good Thing. Talking only works if people know the rules, otherwise it’s just a string of four-letter words followed by a Thai curry in the gob.

But that’s the point! The dining table was where you learned the rules! Rules like: interrupting is ill-mannered unless your father does it.

And: jokes told by your parents are never, ever funny, especially when you have a friend over.

But I believe we’ll wake up eventually. It might take a whole generation. Today’s teenage viewers will have children of their own by then. They’ll have forgotten what dining tables were, just as there are kids out there now who have no idea how to use a teapot.

But some bright and innovative young thing will invent one (a dining table, and possibly even a teapot); except that they’ll call it the talking table and they’ll gather round it during the adverts and discuss stuff eagerly.

It’ll probably come with a little set of conversation ideas so people can discuss something other than Nicole Kidman’s dress and how well Johnny Depp has aged.

There won’t be time for anything very deep, mind you, because the ad breaks only last about three minutes. Just time enough to yell at your son that your sick of him not having a job and sponging off the State and what time did he think he got home last night.

And collecting a face full of Thai curry for your troubles.

Nah… it won’t work. They can get all that on Home and Away.

There is one thing you can be sure of though…

The Thai Curry may contain traces of nuts.