Little Grater sat on the edge of the counter, sharpening his edges and grumbling to himself. “Grater, shred the daikon! Grater, grate the ginger!” he mimicked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “That’s all I ever hear. Do this, do that. Why can’t I decide what I want to do for once?” Big Lid, calmly perched atop the Nabe pot, overheard. “Grater, is something bothering you?” “Yes!” Little Grater snapped. “I’m sick of being told what to do. I want to do things my way, not because someone ordered...