What would your Mother say?

I swipe my hand across my plate, collecting bread crumbs. I greedily lick my fingers, drawing a pop from each as they leave my mouth.

Across the table, William’s eyes are wide.

“Oh, so sorry, Miss Manners. Does eating with my hands make me a Neanderthal?”

Defiantly, I grab the entree with my bare hands. “But I’m not the only one with dining etiquette issues, am I?” Twisting, I rend apart the bones of the roast.

“Let’s not forget—until very recently, you would put your elbows on the table.” I chuckle, pointing an ulna at what is left of him.

What would your Mother say? by Mike Range won the Crumby Editors Choice Award in our first ever Crumbs drabble contest.