Claw marks in the frozen peas

I bought my niece a little stuffed cow today. I gave it to her and she squealed with glee. A few moments later, she came over and asked, “Uncle why yoo buy dis bear Uncle?” Translation: “Don’t buy me things I can afford on my own. Actually, I should be buying you gifts and not the other way around. Also, get me a Teddy Bear next time and not some whack moo cow.”

She’s going down… don’t care that she’s only three and a half.

My brother is home for the holidays with my nephew and niece. This is my chance to prove once and for all that my niece is shady as heck. Whenever they’re home, I see her cautiously drawing on blank sheets of paper with crayon or marker. They may seem like intricate scribbles, but they’re really schematics of security systems.

Janessa is depicted here in a contemplative state, probably thinking about bank heists. She’s evil and I’m not okay with this.

I found this picture of my parents’ wedding. (Left to right: Dad’s dad, dad, mom, mom’s step-brother, mom’s mom)

My dad served with the airforce as a helicopter mechanic. My mom worked at the US Embassy and dealt with terrorist attacks from the Viet Cong daily. My mom’s step brother (directly behind her) spent time in a Vietnamese Re-education camp (aka prison) for about 8 or 10 years. His only crime was that he worked as a police officer before reunification.

My dad’s dad, whom I’ve never met, spent time as a Japanese POW when he served with the French Navy during WWII. He and my grandmother used to take in orphans or kids who were separated from their parents because of the Vietnam War. Gramps was also a man who loved to drink, and ultimately, died of liver failure. I think I get my stubbornness from him. My mom’s dad worked as a body guard for the US Ambassador. He died when a tree branch fell on top of him while napping. I believe I get my OCD from him, he was real strict about organization.

My mom’s kid brother became a hardcore drug addict after the war ended. He would disappear for months at a time, and he’d show up when he needed money or a safe place to lay low for a while. Later in life, he became HIV Positive. I remember speaking to him over the phone when I was 14 years old. In broken English, he told me to live my life, be happy, and do good things. We don’t know if he’s still alive, it’s been about 6 years since we last heard from him.

My parents escaped Vietnam after the war ended by boarding a Huey helicopter on a rooftop with my brother, who was barely 6 months old at the time. Just like the pictures in our history books. They left behind all of their belongings, and came here with the shirts on their backs. No more, no less.

You can be productive with your life, or you can spend time on tumblr making fun of others…