A number of my dinners as of late have been eaten with the Biscuit (aka my son Henry) sitting happily on my lap. I shovel the grub with one hand, and hold him secure in the other. Up until tonight, this has been done at the dinner table, all wholesome and family like. This is not a bad arrangement. In fact, it is typically a right and good arrangement, wherein all is at peace and everyone gets to enjoy their dinner.
Except for tonight when we tried to replicate this arrangement on the couch for a reason that I have now forgotten, and my recently sick/now recovering little boy, sitting on my lap, was in perfect position to sneeze right into my edamame. Thankfully, I was already on seconds.
Back to the dinner table.