My father-in-law slowly looked at Tyler and said,
“You know your brothers stopped bringing the kids here, right?”
Nobody moved.
My mother-in-law frowned immediately. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means they got tired of watching you turn Sunday dinner into a ranking system.”
Tyler stared at his plate.
Then my father-in-law pointed at the giant slice of prime rib.
“You’re forty-two years old and she still acts like the rest of them are competing with you.”
My husband actually laughed once under his breath before catching himself.
That’s when Tyler finally pushed the plate away.
“Mom, seriously. Stop doing this.”
She looked genuinely hurt.
“I was trying to do something nice for you.”
“No,” my sister-in-law muttered quietly into her wine glass.
“You were trying to make sure everybody watched you do it.”
Dead silence.
And for the first time ever, nobody touched the “special” piece sitting on Tyler’s plate.