When I was growing up, meal times weren’t exactly sacred. My father worked at night, and my mother (a picky eater) often made separate meals for herself, which she ate alone while watching the evening news. From my point of view, eating together was what families on TV did. Not real people with jobs and chores and homework. So it came as a big surprise when my six-year-old announced the other day that his favorite family activity is Friday night dinner.