"The doctor said his artery...oh hon, did he say artery or valve...?"

My grandfather, who is sitting directly next to my grandmother, shrugs as he takes a monstrous bite out of his Whopper. 
The thin paper rattles in his hands as a spurt of mustard decisively takes residence on his upper lip. 
He chews as my grandmother continues her story, turning her body towards my mother and I. 

"Anyway, the doctor said his artery, or valve, was shaped like a heart, now isn't that just beautiful?"

I smile, because I'm looking at the mustard. Yes, it is beautiful, grandma. Very beautiful.