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NO FATHER IS unhappy when his whole family is doing something together. I didn’t really care about a cooking show, but I enjoyed having the kids around me. I was happy Mary Catherine was engaged and not alone in bed. But I still had a sense there was something else at work here.

Then it became clear to me.

My grandfather, sitting in a chair Brian had dragged in for him, called to Ricky, who was sitting on the floor in front of the bed with the other boys. Seamus said, “Ricky, this looks like a show you should try out for. Based on that guy’s accent, I bet it’s gotta be filmed somewhere in New York.”

Ricky was quick to answer. “It’s filmed in Brooklyn. Some of it in a studio and some of it at his restaurant.”

I held back my smile at Ricky’s instant response and robotic delivery. This was clearly something the two of them had planned and practiced. I said, “Getting to Brooklyn’s tough sometimes. I’m glad none of us has to deal with going all the way down there from here on the Upper West Side.”

Ricky was quick to say, “They do a lot of filming on the weekend, so it doesn’t interrupt the kids’ school schedules. I read that Mr. Carmelli, the host, says he never wants his show to interfere with education.”

“If he cares so much about the kids, why is he yelling at them?”

“Because he wants to make them better chefs.”

I’d had enough fun. I said, “Ricky, would you like to try out for the show?”

His smile told me he’d already applied.