Mashed Potatoes, by Paul Germano

Grandpa says “pass the salt” and casts a stern eye at the gravy-filled river running through Davey Donahue’s mashed potatoes. “You shouldn’t let him play with his food,” Grandpa says in a grumble to his daughter. Davey’s three older brothers nod agreeably. The oldest gives his grandfather a thumbs up. The other two do a subtle high-five. Davey’s mother sighs, discreetly pointing to her left, where her husband is making a gravy river of his own. Davey’s father, looking up from his plate, makes no attempt at disguising his irritation towards his father-in-law. “Leave the boy be,” he says abrasively.