Better wash up,” mom says. “We’ll be eating in a few minutes.”
I glance toward her mixing bowl, in which she’s blending something resembling Cat Chow.
Dad grimaces at the sight of it. “What do you say, Camelia?” he says. “Maybe after dinner and I can head over to Flick-tastic to rent a couple videos?”
Translation: Let’s save ourselves from this swill by hitting the drive-through of Taco Bell.

Author: Laurie Faria Stolarz