The roast is, of course, delicious. Everyone says how delicious it is.
Nancy looks at me. I look at her. We burst out laughing. It's a big, raucous laugh, completely out of keeping with how well-mannered we've been the rest of the night. It's a laugh that will resonate in my ears for years to come, reminding me of a very important thing: I am not the only one failing to live up to my ludicrous expectations of myself; we all are. So maybe we all should relax. And instead of feeling bad that the roast tastes so good, I decide to simply enjoy it.
Lisa Wolfe now lives in New York with her husband and two sons. She is working on a novel.