On Tuesday of last week I packed up my stuff, said goodbye to my coworkers, and left my job. The next morning, I boarded a plane for Boston. The plan: to sit on my parents’ couch for a week.
It ended up being Get Mom Out Of The House Every Day, but I got what I wanted, which was to spend time with my family. I didn’t tell any of my friends I was home. I’ll have to make a longer trip back home for that.
Mom recently bought a couple goldfish. When I asked her what their names were, she said, “One is named Goldilocks.”
“What’s the other one’s name?”
She paused, “It’s really long.”
“That’s okay, we can give it a shorter nickname. So what’s it’s name?”
“Little Red Riding Hood. It has a red spot on the top of its head.”
Cute!
As I watched her feed the fish and water the plants every morning I realized why things grow so well in the house. She treats every living thing with love. It’s a joy to see.
Speaking of living things in the house, Bobo is still around. I wasn’t sure I’d get to see her again when I left last May. I’m less sure I’ll get to see her again leaving this May. She sleeps a lot, has lost a ton of weight, has a dry nose, is going bald, has cataracts and cysts, and smells like stinky dog. Despite that, she turns into persistent little puppy whenever someone has food. I guess as long as she does that, things are okay.
Mom declared the day I got there that since Bobo was so old she should get to eat whatever she wants, and that she would feed her hamburger and eggs until she dies. She then boiled a dozen eggs just for Bobo. Bobo must have thought she was in doggie heaven when she got that first egg.
Speaking of Mom and food, I’ve discovered that Mom is a snacking machine. Where does she put it all? I guess that’s where I get my itty bitty frame.
Also speaking of food, when Grandma heard I was coming home she did a bunch of prep so we could make joong. That, despite her various aches and pains. Thanks Grandma!
Oh, but Grandma’s aches and pains did not prevent her from coming over for mahjong and winning all my play money. Shark!!
Those aches and pains also didn’t prevent her from telling Mom to stay home because bad people would hypnotize her and make her give them all her money if she went out. I’m not sure what more to say about that. It’s par for Mom’s side of the family.
Really, it is. Take Mom’s idea of hiking, for example. We drove to Blue Hills, parked by the pond, and Mom proceeded to walk toward the largest group of people she could find. When I suggested we hike the trail around the pond, she said there weren’t enough people there and it wasn’t safe. Instead we hiked through the parking lot.
And this is why I never went camping as a kid. That, and the dirt. Oh, and the bugs. And the snakes.
Dad’s dad called while I was there. Dad put me on the phone with him and hilarity ensued. Dada doesn’t speak Cantonese and I don’t speak Shanghainese.
Afterward, Dad tried to teach me and sis some Shanghainese. It’s so different from anything we’ve ever heard. I swear, it sounds more like Russian than Chinese.
Toishanese, however, is no problem for me. I grew up listening to Mom and Grandma speak it, and when I hear it now I don’t have to do any sort of translation in my head. I can’t speak it, though, because I’ve never tried to. Interesting how that works.
Stories
Everyone had a story to share. Well, except for sis, but she’s the youngest so she gets a pass.
Grandma talked about her experience as a seamstresses in the early 80′s. They got paid for each item they sewed: a few cents for a hem, another few cents for a zipper, etc. At first we were amazed at the low cost of labor. Then we realized that kind of labor doesn’t even exist in Boston anymore.
Mom talked about how I used to hop and skip down the street as a kid. As a kid? I sometimes do that even now.
Dad talked about how his dad walked for two months from Shanghai to Macau so he could sneak into Hong Kong in search of a better life for his family. I would not exist if it weren’t for that walk.
I talked about how I found Dad’s coin collection and spent a bunch of his silver dimes at the local Christy’s convenience store. I was in 2nd or 3rd grade, and back then I got into pretty much everything in the house. The first time I did it, the checker told his coworker about the special dimes. The second time, “Hey look! More of those dimes!” The third time, he gave me free candy. That’s when I realized something was wrong and stopped.
Dad brought out his coin collection and I searched for the remaining silver dimes. Thank goodness I didn’t spend them all!
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