The Napkin Wars

It started with a napkin.

Or rather, the absence of one.

In America, you sit down, you put the napkin on your lap. Simple. Expected. A small act of civility, ingrained from childhood. But here in Portugal, our table reflects my German husband’s habits more than mine—napkins are an afterthought, sometimes even an unnecessary formality. Some people don’t use them at all. And when they do, it’s certainly not with the kind of reverence I was taught.

For years, I trained my kids: Napkin. Lap. Done. And for years, they did it. But since moving to Europe, the resistance has set in. They see their dad skipping it. They see friends who don’t bother. And now I’m the lone enforcer of a rule that feels increasingly arbitrary to them.

And it doesn’t stop at napkins.

My husband, who spends half his time elbow-deep in garden soil, hunting old antiques, or working on hands-on projects, often sits down with hands that show evidence of his work. And I don’t mean just a little dirt. I mean that black soot from the fireplace that clings to his hands. I point it out. He waves me off, rubs them together, calls it a day. I tell him to wash them. He tells me I’m a clean freak.

I keep pushing because I don’t want my kids eating with unwashed hands, but more than that, I don’t want them growing up thinking that basic table manners are optional. That I’m the only one who cares. That dad’s way is normal and mom’s way is over the top.

This morning, our daughter was eating like a wild animal. Food spilling past her plate, sleeves dragging through it. And my husband—my napkin-less, soot-handed husband—looks at her and says, “You’re eating like a pig.” Not mean, just funny, with an edge of truth.

She freezes. Her face burns with embarrassment. She’s a people-pleaser, sensitive to shame, especially in front of her brothers. And before I even think, I say, “You can’t really talk about manners…”

Wrong move.

He’s immediately irritated. I’ve undermined him. He’s not wrong about that. But I think back to when he undermined me, all the ways my authority has eroded over the years—those little jokes that turn my cleanliness into something ridiculous. The napkin rule is a lost cause. The hand-washing battle is ongoing. What was once a small, simple standard has become an argument about culture, control, and what we value.

And underneath it all, there’s the bigger question: What are we actually teaching our kids?

My mother used to tell me, You want to be able to go anywhere and feel comfortable—at the fanciest restaurant or in the most humble home. You want to feel at ease in your own skin. And being comfortable in your own skin means knowing how to move through the world with confidence.

That’s what I want for my kids. Not to follow rules blindly or perform for others, but to know that wherever they go, whatever table they sit at, they’ll feel secure in themselves. They’ll know how to hold a fork, how to keep their hands clean, how to carry themselves with quiet assurance. It’s not about being fancy or uptight—it’s about self-assurance.

But there was something else in all of this, something that became clear once Niels and I finally talked it through. This wasn’t about manners. It was about control. He wasn’t resisting napkins—he was resisting being pushed.

Once we finally said all of this out loud, we found a place to meet in the middle. He could see how it felt to be undermined. I could see that my frustration had turned this into a battle neither of us really wanted to have. And we could both agree that, yes, maybe rubbing soot-covered hands together wasn’t quite the same as actually washing them.

So no, it’s not just about a napkin. It never was.

Are you looking for help with your relationship? Do you feel that a relationship coach could help you working on your couples skills? Is communication an issue? Have you ever considered couples therapy or counseling? As a psychotherapist and relationship coach, I am uniquely positioned to help you through these moments of disconnect and conflict.

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