I grab Ella’s hand just before she shoves it into Mrs. Wallace’s famous Texas sheet cake. “Whoa whoa whoa. Let me cut y’all some slices, okay? Let’s just get some plates—” “Here you go.” Ava holds out a pair of paper plates. I notice she’s also got plastic forks and some napkins ready. Can’t help it. I grin. “Tell me you’re a parent without telling me you’re a parent.”
