Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Found: Lost Dog

I find it crazy that, living in a country like China where they make millions of things for export, I cannot find a bag of 5 - 10 pairs of white athletic socks for sale ANYWHERE. They make the socks here. Why don't they sell a big bag of them then? Is it because people here tend to wear the same thing for several days (see, or rather smell, exhibit A, my in-laws)?

I say this because my husband found 3 pairs of socks for me today while we were in Taidong. We'd popped over there quickly after taking Raelynn for one of her vaccinations. Taidong tends to be a total zoo on the weekends but early on a weekday, it's a breeze. Our main purpose was to find markers that were safe for Raelynn to use. Secondary to that, my socks, since all of mine had begun to develop large holes in them, rendering them completely useless. And as a bonus, we found the cutest pair of jeans for Raelynn too.

We begin to hurry home because someone is crying for "crackoo," Raelynn's way of saying "crackers." Jeremy parks the car and I run around the other side to unbuckle Raelynn from her car seat. And that's when I see it.

Looking like a mangy lost dog that hadn't been hosed down in months, MIL comes seemingly out of nowhere. Oh. GOD! Why is she skulking around down our street? Is she just waiting for us? She wants to see Raelynn and I try to force a smile to override the visible scowl I know I'm making. I just can't help it. She bugs me, lurking around our neighborhood. It's just too convenient. But thankfully, my husband tells her I have to take the baby upstairs now because she's really hungry. The downside: we have to have dinner with the old mutt tomorrow. At their house of bad smells and disgusting food. We had to go there the other night so they could show off how they finally got a real toilet. That night, MIL had made the most bland food ever. The only things I found edible were some toasted cashews and a tiny plate of fried shrimp. The other items were: a green cabbage dish cooked in way too much oil with some bay shrimp; a cabbage dish that had been cooked so long it was colorless, swimming in a sea of very unappetizing brown sauce; fried small fish and plain overcooked noodles.

Jeremy kept force-feeding me chunks of the fried fish, which was absolutely atrocious. Why they think this fish - the kind I'd use for bait when I'd go fishing - is so delicious, I will never know. It is just as bland as MIL's personality. I like fish but not this kind. The way she cooks it makes it so dull and tasteless. Blah. Before we left, MIL, noticing that I'd eaten very little, decided to fry up some chicken wings, which she actually makes quite well. Why she didn't just do that from the beginning I'll never know. Does she forget every single time that I despise the small fried fish she serves? That I grimace when I see her overcooked vegetables drowning in unpalatable sauces? Just like MIL herself, her cooking is totally for the dogs.

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