You can imagine this one: Harried mom rushing to the supper table with a pot of green beans and serving fork. She’s holding the fork at just the right angle to catch the lip of her own glass of milk and turn it on its side.
Milk flowing everywhere — on the table, through the crack in the table and under the table. Harried mom and tired dad race to the kitchen for rags while son quietly watches. A flurry of wiping and rag-wringing.
Mom and dad return to their seats at the table and son calmly says, “Here you go, Mom,” handing her back her glass, which in the midst of the hubbub he had carefully filled with half of his own milk.