When David was in college he worked at a tea shop. By the way, I can say, “Please, can I have a cup of pearl milk tea?” in Chinese. Just saying. Anyway, most places that sell pearl milk tea take requests on the desired pearl to milk ratio. The pearls are rice balls, and some people prefer tons while others prefer mostly the sweet milky part with just a sprinkling of rice balls. One day when David was working, a lady came in and asked for peas in her tea. (Yes, we’re talking about green peas here.) Then she added that she didn’t want any milk in it. David paused before saying, “This sounds like pea soup, is that what you mean?” The lady nodded, and he had to deliver the bad news, “Well… we don’t really sell any soup tea.”
About a month ago I went with a group of people to a restaurant that had a whole wall of used books. We were talking about them, and David said, “I bet they have a rich flavor”. He was referring to how used books have a certain smell and feel, making them more valuable in a sense than new books. Sometimes I’m unsure if someone’s interesting word choice can be accredited to the fact that the Chinese translation is common or to the fact that the person is clever. It’s often a combination of both of course. Sometimes David makes witty jokes in English, and my laugh is probably delayed and unconvincing because I’m too busy being surprised and jealous. I can’t really imagine being witty in another language. Mom, I blame you.
Why is it that moms, not dads, are blamed for most things? I know we have Mother’s Day, but perhaps we should also have a “Blame your Dad Day” just to even things out a bit. How about September 5. Dad, you should have taught me German, and don’t try to say that your German isn’t perfect. You could argue that if I knew German I’d be in Germany instead of Taiwan, but that is beside the point, and plus, I’m sure Germany is a delightful place. Dad, where are my ankles? Unrelated to the ankles, I still remember when I succeeded in getting you to buy me that chocolate bar one day when you dragged me along to the barber shop. You intruded on my blissful enjoyment of each creamy square with a warning, “You will become fat if you keep eating the way you do”. In case it wasn’t obvious, your admonishing gave me a complex that drove me to eat more chocolate bars. Good thing you also passed on your fast metabolism, affinity for exercise, and O blood otherwise this paragraph would be longer.
One last thing, the following conglomeration of traits is definitely your fault: obsessive meticulous perfectionism about unimportant details that no one cares about. I bet you’re picking up a piece of lint from the carpet RIGHT now. I may or may not be arranging the hairs on my arm so that they are all going in the same direction. I really don’t do that much. I do blame the amount of hair on you though.
P.S. If you are at all hairy, you will feel about 2.5 times hairier in Asia. David’s friend has NO hair on his arms (not a single strand) and about 3 hairs on each leg. I feel like snuffalupagus.