The Woman Who Always Got the Fish Head

I'd spent a lifetime eating fish heads. My son actually believed I loved the damn things — all bones, no meat.

Every time the family sat down to a nice dinner, they'd pick through the tender fish flesh together, then shove the bony scraps and the head across the table to me like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Mom, this is your favorite part. It's all yours."

Watching my husband and son wear those smug, unbothered expressions, I suddenly thought: I can't keep doing this to myself.

So this time, I tipped the fish head into the trash.