Kitchen Table Talk

Last weekend my mom and sister came out from Texas for an all-too-brief visit. Guess where we spent most of our time for those two days?

Around the kitchen table.

Funny thing is, I didn't even do much cooking while they were here. The kitchen table isn't just about food. It's about sitting around and gabbing.

My husband didn't quite get it. He joined us from time to time, pulling up a chair and chatting sociably. But after a while he'd say, "Wouldn't you guys rather sit in the living room where it's more comfortable?"

I don't know exactly why, but the kitchen table runs deep in the female of the species. Watch at your next family gathering. Whether it's before the meal or after, the women tend to land in the kitchen, the men in the living room. You might think it's because that's where the TV is. Admittedly, the big game can be a big draw at Thanksgiving time. But I say the tradition started way before television. Read a 19th-century novel, and you're likely to see the men retire to the drawing room for brandy and cheroots, while the women ... do what? Wash dishes? Sit in a sewing circle? Faint? I don't remember.

For whatever reason, the kitchen table is the scene for female bonding.

Men don't get it. They prefer a cushy sofa to those hard-backed chairs. And maybe they are lured by the glow of television's electronic hearth -- or, in earlier days, the fireplace. Maybe it's a caveman thing.

But how does that explain us, clustered around a hard surface in those hard-backed chairs?

Maybe it's because, like it or not, the kitchen table puts us closer to the center of traditional female chores. Far from being a physical barrier, it's the perfect place to cluster around, to talk about everything and nothing. It's also a great place to rest that cup of coffee, or soda, or whatever.

I can't really explain it. It just works -- and I wouldn't trade the hours we spent there for the world.

What Are Fantasies Made Of?

This afternoon at Target, I cruised by the category romance lines ... and an overriding theme in the titles hit me upside the head.

Somehow, in this post-feminist world, it looks like we've become obsessed with wealthy heroes. And this trend didn't start with the recession -- it's been around for a while. Maybe it never went away?

But on the racks in front of me, I counted two tycoons, two princes, three millionaires, four billionaires and one C.O.O. (I'm not sure what C.O.O. stands for, but I bet he's rich.)

Holy E.R.A., Batman! What's happened to us?

I know we've come a long way, baby. And I'm sure for every one of those rich, powerful men, there's a strong heroine who's going to stand her ground and teach him a thing or two, rather than crumpling in front of his ruthless Italian loafers.

I know Gloria Steinem didn't have all the answers. Somehow we've reached a place where the two-income household has become the rule rather than the exception -- not always by choice, but often by financial necessity. Maybe that's what's got those rich dudes looking so good.

And I know these billionaires have their own set of issues to work out. A lot of 'em are pretty lovable guys. But in a pinch, he's the kind of guy who whips out the plastic and treats our heroine to a decadent shopping spree, a la Pretty Woman. (And how I love the heroine who says no thanks ... except for maybe that one really nice pair of shoes for her fatherless child.)

I KNOW it's all fantasy. But are those fantasies getting a wee bit greedy? Or do I just think small?

After all, I'm the type who tends to pick up the stories about PTA moms and single dads. If you want to talk fantasy, I'd be more likely to go for titles like The Bride Paid Off Her Car. Or, based on a recent plight, The Sexy Mechanic Who Fixed Her Engine For Free. Heck, I'm happy with The Dad Who Loved Movies. And while most of us would probably back away slowly from The Sensitive Accountant Who Made Tea, I might give him a shot. Especially if I was already on the couch with my feet up.

Of course it's all entertainment, and we surely don't need to apologize for our fantasies. But I'm curious. Am I the one who's out of step? Are rich heroes a hot-button for you?