Vincent had no comeback. He went and made himself a cup of instant noodles.
I glanced at my son's round little belly. Vincent must have let John eat most of the leftovers at Nora's, which was why he hadn't gotten enough himself.
"Johnny, starting tomorrow, Mommy's going to bring back food from Aunt Nora's house for you. Doesn't that sound great?"
He jumped up and down, beaming. "Yes! Finally I don't have to eat your gross cooking anymore!"
"But here's the deal. If you choose to eat Aunt Nora's food, then you can never eat Mommy's cooking again. Ever."
"Fine! Who wants it anyway!"
He grabbed Vincent's hand. "Daddy's with me too."
I looked at Vincent. He grinned.
"I'm with my son."
"Fine."
The first day of the new arrangement, I set the food I'd packed up from Nora's house on the table.
John craned his neck to look and immediately scrunched up his face.
"These are leftovers."
"Of course they're leftovers. You're the one who loves Aunt Nora's leftovers so much, so eat up."
"Whatever. Leftovers are still better than anything you make."
In front of me sat four freshly cooked dishes, still steaming: braised ribs, garlic butter shrimp, clam and egg custard, and baby bok choy in garlic sauce.