I do not have a double standard, by the way. If I am tardy I would be horrified to think that six or sixteen people all sat with forks at the ready, salivating at the sight of uneaten food until I sauntered through the door. Dig in, by all means, folks.

It probably goes back to a trauma in my childhood. One Thanksgiving my father led us in the lengthiest blessing we knew, and then invited, no required, each of us to name three things we were truly thankful for before the first bite disappeared between chomping teeth. I can still remember looking longingly at the plates of potatoes and pie, spilling with bounty, forcing my mouth to talk instead of chew. After all I had not eaten since... well, breakfast.

At our house there is no set dinnertime. We chow down in the living room as often as not. Hence no one can be faulted for being late or early for a moving target. Sports events, work schedules, and screens all beguile various Odhners to places that are not the dining room. But when I do announce the appearance of stir fry and rice I want to shovel it into bowls while the temperature is still above tepid. If two kids come, great. Say grace and jump in. The others will wander in eventually.

But John is hurt when we start without him and conversely is protective of kids who did not hear the first yell. I get it. But the food gets cold. 

Sometimes we buy the expectation that all differences must be resolved. After all either you have a vacation in the mountains or at the beach. You have a dog or you don't.

But some people find ways to compromise. One couple solved the canine question by going ten years with and ten without. Another takes turns choosing a vacation spot. 

There is a little ditty by Shel Silverstein that rumbles in my head. 

"If you convinced me and I convinced you, would there not still be two points of view?"

The annoying truth is that both of us have good reasons for our stance. I just want mine to trump his. But really, having two legs to stand on works better anyway.