I kept swallowing my irritation like it was a bitter medicine that I was forced to take for my own health. Then the dessert came out, featuring strawberry shortcake and little chocolate tarts that were dusted with powdered sugar.

My mother was in the middle of a story about something my father had done years ago involving a ridiculous prank with a fishing pole. People were half listening and half scrolling on their phones while the mood eased into that post-meal softness where everyone gets louder.

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