Abby looked up from her own lunch to eye mine.
"What's in your bowl?" she asked.
"Leftover squash soup," I replied.
"Is there more?"
"No. This is the last of it."
A twinkle of triumph lit in her eyes. "Good, because I don't like it!" she exclaimed, stuffing a large bite of her own lunch into her mouth--a leftover-squash-soup-spice muffin.
There might have been a twinkle in my own eyes.