little. yellow. different. A weblog by Ernie Hsiung

More Hot Than Not (In a Bad Way)

I’m writing this weblog entry in bed, on my trusty laptop. I have a fever. Now, a fever obviously isn’t the most enjoyable thing in the world, but compared to the times I had the stomach flu or strep throat, it’s a veritable walk in the park.

My mother, however, would beg to differ. (Chinese in italics)

March 2, 7:00pm. The phone rings.

Ernie: Hello?
Mom: ERRR-NEEEE! Have you eaten dinner yet?
E: No. I have a fever.
M: WHAAAAAT!? YOU NEED TO DRINK LOTS OF FLUIDS! AND GET SOME REST! WHY ON EARTH AREN’T YOU RESTING?
E: I am resting, Mom. I’m in my bed.
M: I wish I didn’t move to Fremont! I don’t know how to drive to your house, otherwise I would drive over and fix you breakfast and clean out your closets and…
E: I’m fine, ma.
M: No, you’re sick. I will CALL TOMORROW.

March 3, 9:30am. The phone rings.

M: Are you going to work?
E: No.
M: Well, good. You need your rest.
E: I WAS getting my rest until you woke me up, Mom.
M: Do you want me to cook you rice porriage? You probably don’t even have any rice, you bastardized American.
E: No, mom. I’m going back to bed. Bye.
M: Bye-bye!

March 3, 9:37am. The phone rings.

E: ‘lo?
M: Are you sure?
E: Yes.

You can die from a fever, right? How about constant smothering?

Can I cook you rice porridge you bastardized American? Hysterical. Did she really say that?