This weekend, Noah (age 12) and I found ourselves walking through a night market, just the two of us. I just have to quickly say that some of the nastiest food known to mankind as well as the most horrific smells can be found at Chinese night markets. Nevertheless, I LOVE walking through them. But I digress.
So, Noah and I were walking through the night market, just the two of us and the conversation went something like this:
Noah: Mom, if it means that we aren’t going to get any presents, I don’t want to go to Indonesia for Christmas.
Me: Noah, can you tell me one thing you got for Christmas last year?
Me: Can you tell me anything that we did when we went to Cambodia for Chinese New Year last year?
Noah: We played paint ball and went to Angkor Watt. (After thinking about it for a minute.) I think I got a New England Patriots hat for Christmas.
Me: And you can’t remember anything else you got?
Me: And do you know where that New England Patriots hat is?
Noah: Nope. But I would give up presents for four birthdays and four Christmases if we could move back to Utah.
Me: That’s just pathetic! Here, do you want me to buy you some of these chicken feet to snack on?
Noah: Uh, no.