“I knew I shouldn’t have let you pick out your own gift.” “Hey.” Quentin sounded offended, “I’m great at picking out gifts.” “He got me a barbecue grill for my birthday,” Miguel said to me, folding his arms over his chest as if to say, ‘see?’ “You were craving barbecue all week!” “So, then you take me to Patty’s Smoke Shack for lunch or something. You don’t buy me an Olympic-sized propane grill and ten pounds of beef.” “I stand by the purchase,” Quentin said,
