i was so shocked. my mom and my dad, having an all-out fight. normally it's me duking it out with my dad.

“做人最唔好係成日complain嘅啦”-- "The worst thing you can do as a person is to complain all the time," my dad says. "Always mumbling and grumbling," he says. My mom was saying how he hadn't made enough to eat. "The fish is barely enough for one person," she had pointed out. "And we don't even like eating taro." Apparently my dad took great offense at this. "I spent a lot of time and energy on this meal," he says loudly (he's always loud). "There's four dishes, for four people. That's enough! And this is a new kind of taro!" I surveyed the four dishes he'd spent so much time on: green beans with strips of onions and five carrot slivers; mushrooms with six slivers of ham; large square pieces of taro with some pieces of sausage; and the aforementioned piece of fish. I contemplated asking him if he would enjoy eating four plates of ants if they were the best kind of ant and I had spent all my time and energy preparing them for him. I kept my mouth shut.

The argument went down the usual avenues, with my mom stating obvious facts, like "You never listen" and "the only reason there's food left is because everybody's too polite to eat it all themselves," and my dad ignoring her and saying things like "you shouldn't talk unless we actually _finish_ all this food" and "there's always food left over" and "now you're making things up" and "everyone's always complaining."

I finished my bowl and went to make some tofu. Realize that I haven't cooked in any sense of the word since the all the 火鍋's i went to in Taiwan. My mom stormed off to do whatever. My dad sat there not saying anything. Normally he'd be getting the 飯焦, the rice gruel we have for the second half of the meal. I noticed her bowl was gone from the table. When the rice gruel was ready, I guess my grandma noticed too.

“五嫂，你唔吃飯焦？” she asked my mom.

“唔吃啦，” my mom replied. “吃飽氣。”