“I’ll take two, please.” “You’ll make your own.” “Come on, be a good sport.” “Yeah, Dad. Uncle Zach drove all the way over here to have breakfast with us and you won’t even feed him? I thought that’s what dads are supposed to do—give toys, food, and love.” “To kids.” “Uncle Zach is the biggest kid I know.” Zach fist-bumps him. “Right on, little man. Right on.” I stare at my best friend, mouth hanging open in shock. “You’ve turned my own spawn against me? That’s messed up, man.” He shrugs and reaches across the counter to grab two waffles. “Can you pass the peanut butter?” “I hate you,” I
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