Chapter Twelve
He was seated at one end of the bench, and Tiffy was at the other end, Brandon in between them at the large oval table. He was sure the food was good as he took in the fluffy whipped potatoes, ham, baby carrots, and salad, his senses on overload. He was unable to taste anything, though, and only vaguely heard the conversation around him as his son fidgeted beside him, using his hands over his fork.
“Come on, Brandon,” Tiffy said. “Use your fork like a big boy. You’re not a baby anymore. Up on your knees. Sit up, eat your dinner, stop playing.”
He had listened to the battle of wills between mother and son, adding, “Listen to your mother, and try the ham.” Brandon had complained he didn’t like it and it was too chewy.
Then there was Alex, who steadily shoved food in his mo
