I grew up in a home that had plastic covers over our dining room chairs. Every chair had one except the one my father sat in. We didn’t have a particularly neat home but I fully appreciate, especially now that I am a homeowner, the desire to keep your valuables as pristine as possible. But my dining room chairs, for a variety of reasons, do not have those plastic covers. I’ve definitely noticed a trend that they have become less and less common for those in my generation.
One custom that I did inherit and continue is my absolute visceral aversion to getting stains on my clothes, especially on Shabbos. I hate feeling like a mess. And when raising young kids this becomes harder and harder. Every time my son pours grape juice I watch with trepidation. I’ve considered wearing a raincoat to the Shabbos table. But someone said something to me once that really stuck with me, “Stains and mess on your Shabbos clothes is the sign of an involved parent.” I still hate feeling messy, but I have found comfort in the stains on my Shabbos shirts. Because life is messy, and life lived fully will always contain a few stains.
