growing up
Brooklyn
Sunday dinners
were all the rage:
“Bless us Oh Lord, and these thy gifts,
which we are about to receive, from thy
bounty, through Christ, Our Lord, Amen.”
Go!
olives
breadsticks
meatballs
screaming
linguine
artichokes
fist fights
shouting
vino
gnocchi
dinner plates
flying
espresso
cannolis
laughing
lying
siblings
spiteful
talking
mouthfuls
parents
swearing
grandma
crying
minutes
later
seething
glances
living room
feet up
snoring
naptime