Loretta jumped up, furious, saying it was disgusting and that she could get seriously sick. Evan didn’t raise his voice. He slid the tray an inch closer to her. “That’s exactly how my wife feels,” he said, “every time you lick a spoon and put it back in our son’s food.” I almost laughed. Loretta opened her mouth to argue, then stopped. For the first time since she arrived, she had nothing to say.

Then Evan admitted the truth. He didn’t have strep. He hadn’t been to urgent care. The utensils were clean, and the smears were just a little toothpaste he had dabbed on to make them look used. But Benji did have a fever. It had started the night before, after he ate the bowl of soup she had already served him with that spoon. Evan had stayed up with him all night. His pediatrician had already confirmed the same virus she had.