Spaghetti night meant Ragu meat sauce with thin spaghetti and Lender's garlic bagels, only in this house, they called them "beagles". A portion of spaghetti was always left to the side in a bowl for Mara, who preferred plain butter to the sauce. Mara's younger brother ate everything, mixed together. Dean would even tear his bagel into pieces and mix it into the spaghetti with sauce. Neither ever wanted to try the red wine vinaigrette salad, and they wouldn't until nearly high school. "Finger tastes" of Dad's red wine were a must, but only with washed hands. Finally, all the plates were out, the beagles warmed in the microwave and buttered, the console television turned towards the kitchen table, and Mara waited patiently to ask permission.
"May I?" she finally asked, her hands hovering over her bowl of buttered noodles.
Mom checked that the bathroom door was already open. "Go ahead."
Mara gleefully grabbed her pile of spaghetti with both hands and bit through the middle, buttering the sides of her face. Making sure the remaining noodles were back in the bowl, Mara announced, "Be right back!" and she raced off to the bathroom (door open) to wash her buttered hands.
Mom and Dad made eye contact and smiled wryly, while Dean broke his beagle into tiny pieces and dropped them into his sauce.
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