윤

My best friend in the whole world was a chihuahua and 岳父 is an otherwise good man, but that doesn’t mean I have to put cheese in my ラーメン, either. I’m not sure what’s worst: the sheer selfishness bringing a dog fit only for a single’s companion after already being rid of the smelly shih-tzu Iris also once thoughtlessly “rescued”, like father-like daughter; the imbecility of imagining the world’s noisiest breed suitable under the same roof with a sleeping infant; the acquiescence of his anger-ridden wife to this irresponsible act, not to mention her belief that she can somehow assume its care with a baby in her arms and food on the stove; or the entire family for fostering an environment where troublemakers steamroll the caretakers. 汪汪 (because the year-and-a-half-old will never learn a real name, anyway) has me reconsidering Al Bundy’s Shoe Lights as I tip-toe around its piss, cringing with each wail when its owner leaves it for a moment, and worrying that my son will take after this wretched spawn of a household without restraint.

Tagged family, food