Oh, dear God. “Um . . . yeah. Sure.”
“Hey! Dinner ready, and I’m hungry,” Granddaddy calls from downstairs. “So bring y’all asses on!”
“Sit your behind down somewhere and hush!” Grandma says.
“Ah, the sweet sound of dysfunction,” Trey says as he leaves my room. “We’ll have to deal with that all the time now.”
“Lord, help us,” Mom adds, following him out.