My Son Started Packing My Barbecue Into Takeout Boxes

and stretches it till it snaps.

“Did you say that?” I asked him.

He kept staring at the edge of the table. “I said there are usually leftovers.”

“That’s not what she said.”

He swallowed. “I may have said you don’t mind people taking some.”

Some.

I almost smiled at that. Not because it was funny. Because of the nerve.

“Some is a plate,” I said. “Some is a continue reading …