Ancestors

A note on the fridge read: Make rice. Back at 5. – mama

It’s been a while. What did my sister say again?

A piece of advice: listen to your ancestors.

Wait, I’m not even fluent. How will I—

Step 1:

Enter the pantry. Note: Be aware of the tiny squeaking creatures. 

Translation: Watch your feet.

Step 2: 

Locate the goods. Preferably jasmine. 

Steps 3 & 4:

Pot and water. Grab in less than 30 seconds. 

Am I understanding this right? Did they even have a clock back then?

Step 5:

Wash until clear.

Quick, time check. 4:33. I’m on my fourth wash.

Guess I am fluent.

Surely it’s 

fine.

Step 6:

Pour the water in. Just enough.

How do I know what’s enough? 

I didn’t even measure the rice. 

I forgot the finger rule. 

I am SO f*cked.

4:44. 

Ten minutes to cook normally.

Six minutes to figure it out.

Ancestors? No response. Not even Tagalog.

I guess they’re scared of her too.

The Olympics

I’ve never felt so American

Until Stephen Curry got on that court.

Three pointer?

                              Over the tall French man?! 

                                                                                  SWISH!

God… 

Why have I never stood up during the pledge of allegiance?