The Autobiography of Chris Childs

As a I sit here at the kitchen table, with my elbows firmly planted on the table top, I remember very clearly being told “elbows off the table” by my grandfather (my Mum’s father). It was said in a firm but friendly way and my grandmother would often make a bit of a joke about my grandfather’s reproof, but it was clear that elbows on the table were not good manners. Obviously this is not something that was embedded deeply enough into my socialisation to have a lasting effect.

The other thing my grandfather used to say was “put it in the other hand” whenever I picked up a sandwich or a piece of cake to eat with my left hand. This happened so often that it became something of a family joke. Quite why it was only good manners for us to eat with the right hand I’m not sure (I know this is true in some other countries for hygiene reasons). I’m also not sure how compliant I would have been if I had been left handed.

Another mark of good manners at mealtimes involved the procedure at the end of the meal. I’m sure this was probably my Mum’s doing: it would have come from my grandparents and was no doubt another example of “respectable working class behaviour.” We always ate meals together at the table as a family. (Eating at a table is something of a novelty for many kids today.) At the end of the meal we couldn’t just get down from the table; we had to wait for everyone to finish and then we would say, “I’ve had sufficient thank you, may I leave the table?”

I have no distinct memory of this but I must have said the same thing at evening meals every day for most of my childhood. Over time it probably got shortened to “Had sufficient thank you” and the whole phrase was probably speeded up and the words run together, as I hastened to get away to whatever it was I wanted to do. Like all rituals, after time, I lost all sense of what I was doing, what I was actually saying or what the words meant: it was just something you said at the end of a meal.

I wouldn’t have thought anymore about it except that, at one family occasion, I had to stay overnight at my aunt’s house. I was on my own with my aunt and uncle and my cousins. We had our evening meal and, at the end in the meal I said “ Enchakenckyou”. (That’s as near as I can get to spelling out what I actually said.) My aunt and my cousins looked at me with amazement and I repeated the phrase several times. They, of course, had no idea what I was trying to say and I couldn't understand why they didn’t automatically know what I meant. It was a source of great amusement to them and it caused me a certain amount of embarrassment and frustration.

I couldn’t explain what “Enchakenckyou” meant because I had no idea. I’d never thought about it. The event must have left a scar because I continued to mull over this mystery. It was only some considerable time later that I worked out that “ Enchakenckyou” must have been derived from “Had sufficient thank you.” Just shows you how language can evolve over time.