Grace and I are sitting at my parents’ dining room table, eating cheese and crackers. Grace is also, as usual, writing on a notepad.
“Mom, I have a question,” she says.
“What?” I reply hesitantly, expecting the unanswerable.
“What do you do when life gives you lemons?”
Oh, that old one? I think. I say, instead, “Make lemonade.”
“Nope.” Grace rolls her eyes at my obvious answer. “You pucker.”
And, indeed, you do.