I bought 33 pounds of beef for a family barbecue—when my daughter-in-law tried to take it all, I said three words that stopped everyone cold

and peach cobbler.

Tom lowered his newspaper.

“Betty, how many people are you feeding? The entire Dallas Cowboys roster?”

“There will only be eight of us.”

“Then why does that list look like you’re opening a restaurant?”

“There will be leftovers.”

“There are always leftovers.”

“That is the point.”

He shook his head, though he was smiling.

After thirty-nine continue reading …