The way a family learns to do mealtimes at home is usually the by-product of past experiences. We all bring with us certain traditions from our childhoods, like where Dad sits, who says grace, how food is distributed, and whether you serve the food out of serving bowls or cooking pans.

Then we go to school and usually learn to eat cafeteria style, where self-service is the rule. Every tray is an island, and every island joins an archipelago of other self-serving islands at a huge table. School can also teach us all kinds of new mealtime customs, such as whether we avoid belching at the table all the time or only in mixed company.

And if Mom and Dad lived on their own before marriage, they may have picked up other unique eating habits during the single life. For instance, before I was married I developed the habit of having two prepackaged cupcakes and a Coke for breakfast. While my new bride, Beth, was amazed at my disregard for nutrition, she joked that she could easily serve me breakfast in bed every morning. She'd just keep the cupcakes in the nightstand and the Coke in a cooler, and when I woke up she'd toss them to my side of the bed and go back to sleep.

Of course, when children come along, mealtime changes dramatically again. On one hand, parents often feel obligated to be more formal and family-like. After all, it's not just the two of you grabbing TV dinners anymore, and you do have all those place settings of dishes you got as wedding gifts. On the other hand, there's something about feeding babies and toddlers that makes mealtime anything but formal. My wife still reminds me of the time our 2-year-old vomited all over his end of the table and I looked up briefly but just kept eating.

By the time all of our children were past the baby and toddler age and in school, I started to notice a significant change in our family mealtimes. Generally speaking, mealtimes seemed to become quicker and quieter. Just getting us all to the table at the same time was a challenge. Once we were at the table, it seemed to be a race to see how quickly we could gobble down dinner and get back to whatever we were doing.

Of course, as parents, we wanted to know something of what our children had experienced at school that day. But our standard questions were doomed to very brief answers.

I mentioned this to my friend Glenda at work and was surprised to hear her laugh. Her two boys were older than my three, and she spoke with the experience of someone who had endured many one-word answers at mealtimes. Glenda told me of a tradition they had started in their family called "school stories." Every evening at dinner, before anyone could leave the table, everyone had to tell a school story from their day. It couldn't be a sentence or two, and it couldn't just be a rundown of their class schedules. They had to describe something that had happened that day in detail and respond to any questions others at the table might have.

"And they actually do that?" I asked.

Glenda's eyebrows rose at the idea that her motherly authority would be questioned. "They do if they don't want to sleep at the kitchen table that night!"

Knowing that my wife could deliver that same motherly look, I decided we should give it a try.

Ever since that next night, our family has practiced the habit of intentionally talking about at least part of our day every night at dinner. At first our boys thought it was annoying and stupid. Okay, they still think that sometimes. But we have remained devoted to the discipline of everyone talking around the dinner table. The homework waits, the TV and computer stay turned off, and the phone goes untouched until everyone has shared.

On rare evenings when everyone is in a good mood at the same time, it can be a highlight of the week. On the other evenings it can be like pulling teeth just to get everyone to say something. Either way, the habit of eating together and (just as important) talking together has become one of the main practices that helps keep our "home team" together.