But it has become one of the banes of my existence. And they scrape back their chairs and run out the front door, leaving behind the huge servings of seconds they just ladled onto their plates. But tonight is the Yellow Dinner, we are not having any guests, and perhaps we can navigate around the perilous straits of scatology and lost appetites. Guests can be trouble in so many ways, for of course it is incumbent on the gracious host to vociferously adopt any and all food dislikes expressed by a visiting friend. I am in the home stretch, dumping the corn into a pot, when I hear the refrigerator door creaking open ever so slowly behind me.
Dinner is in ten minutes.
But you've been eating nonstop since I picked you up from school, Vince. I can't imagine how you're going to eat any dinner as it is. He looks at me with eyes so wide you can see white all the way around the blue. I will, Mama. That'll get dinner out even faster.