Auntie Carmel tells me I eat fast. It’s a hard-to-swallow truth, so from now on, the boy can eat as slowly as he pleases
When I was worried my son was coming down with a little something, I remarked that his eating was slowing down a bit.
‘I’ve noticed how fast you eat,’ my wife’s Auntie Carmel said. She said it with the sympathetic air of a librarian who’s noticed a particularly dull child reading a book upside down. I looked down at my plate – the empty plate from which my helpless food had just been evacuated – and back up at her scientific gaze, swallowing the last of my dinner. ‘I’m not being critical,’ she assured me, ‘I find it fascinating.’ She said ‘fascinating’ the way a polite member of the FBI might describe your recent internet searches.
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