“Potato pancakes,” George spoke up. “Right, guys?”
Simone nodded and smiled, and the rest of us quickly agreed. Owen glanced up at his mother.
“Go ahead, take a taste,” she urged him. “You like potatoes, remember?”
Owen carefully lifted the fritter to his mouth. He bit off a tiny piece and chewed carefully. Then he took a larger bite.
“Mmm,” he mumbled through the half-chewed fritter. “I like potatoes! Can I have another one, please?”
I was pretty sure that Owen had no idea why all the grown-ups suddenly started laughing. But as he gobbled down several more zucchini fritters, I guessed that he probably didn’t care.