Monday night my parents and I were having supper with the kids. Asher spends most of suppertime talking incessantly and often it’s mindless jabbering, but most nights I work hard at staying focused and talking with him. Not that night. I felt poorly from my last chemo treatment, and our supper was Italian. Need I say more? You don’t mess with an Italian momma and her food! Adam brought our supper (that man should open a restaurant!), and I was so caught up in the delectable flavors of every bite I put in my mouth (that’s the delicate way of saying stuffing my face), that I had totally shut out Asher’s constant talking. Micah; however, had not.  Read more... (376 words, estimated 1:30 mins reading time)