Sunday. When I was a child, we spent Sundays at grandma's house-really an apartment in upper Manhattan across from Baker's Field. If we sat on the fire escape we could see Columbia students playing football (actually half a field of football.) The fire escape afforded a restricted view but hey-it didn't cost a cent and none of had any money to spare. Don't why we called the apartment grandma's, grandpa lived there too. he had a wealth of stories and though he claimed to be an agnostic, they were almost all biblical stories.
The entire family spent Sunday at the apartment. We brought cake-a Sunday treat. One aunt would make a chicken, another a brisket and my mother would make her pea soup complete with marrow bones. While we ate each relative would try to outdo the other by making a pun. I.E. "I cod eat more than you." "The halibut you can." "Clam up." They were pretty bad.
Afternoons would be spent discussing politics and the discussion would get louder and louder. Everyone had their say including the children. The discussions kept us reading and aware of the world during our childhood and into our adult years. I miss those afternoons.