Parental Visit

I need a drink.

The Wu parents are in town and they're behaving like, well, typical Chinese parents. The second and third sentences that came out of my mom's mouth when she arrived at my apartment--you know, after "I have two papayas in my suitcase for you"--were "Your building is so old" and "There are so many slums here." Hello to you too, Mother.

Other lovely Mom-isms, translated from Cantonese:

"Don't wear your hair up for the wedding. It'll make you look old. You should wear your hair down."

"You need to wear more makeup. And jewelry. Otherwise you'll look so plain."

"There are so many weird bums around here."

"You haven't known J very long--how do you know he's not a womanizer?" (I snorted with laughter at that one. Sorry, darling.)

"Don't go out after dark. It's so not safe. Make sure you go home immediately after work."

"You need to live in a nicer apartment. Spend more money on rent."


And she actually went easy on me, believe it or not; she's been much more critical during previous visits. But the most uplifting conversation of today went like this:


Mom: You don't wear that coat to work, do you?

Me: Um, what? This is my good coat.

Mom: That ratty, schlumpy thing? Ugh. You need to buy yourself new clothes. People judge you by how you look. And your purse has scuff marks all over it. You need to throw it out and get a new bag, at least four or five hundred dollars.

Me: Mom, I'm not going to spend $500 on a purse.

Mom: Why are you being so stingy? When did you become so stingy? Don't buy cheap stuff. At least spend $100. This one [pointing to her Kate Spade bag], I got for $100. Is J cheap?

Me: [exasperated] No, he's not cheap. In fact, I just got a $900 DSLR camera in the mail yesterday that he bought for me as a gift.

Mom: Oh, well, I hope no one breaks into your apartment and steals it. Also, when you travel, you shouldn't be cheap. You should only stay in four star hotels. Three star hotels aren't safe. And don't buy cheap furniture. There are so many Chinese people who buy cheap furniture and their houses look terrible.

Me: Did you not just hear what I said?


Sigh.

I shouldn't complain though because I know my parents love me. In addition to schlepping fresh papayas from LA, my parents brought me broccoli, giant lemons from their neighbor's lemon tree (which are so amazingly fragrant compared to supermarket lemons), three different kinds of Japanese mushrooms, string beans, five packages of seaweed, two bags of Japanese green tea, and a WHOLE COOKED CHICKEN. Who packs a Tupperware full of chicken in their luggage? My parents do, because they know that chicken cooked in this particular Cantonese style is my favorite. So I am very, very lucky to have parents who love me so much...though I do wonder what airport security thought when they ran my parents' suitcases through the x-ray machines.

Anyway, I've survived Day 1. We went to Star Kitchen on Mississippi and Alameda for both dim sum and dinner, and my parents were surprised and impressed that the food was so authentically Cantonese and delicious. "Just as good as LA," my mother said, which is really saying something. Definitely the best Chinese food in Denver, hands down.

So tomorrow is the big day when my parents meet J's parents. I'm nervous, to say the least. Cross your fingers that my head doesn't explode.