Chinese Grandparents Spoil the Kids


Day 1

I arrive early in the morning. My grandparents are all over me.

“My baby”, says Grandma.

“I’m twenty-two”, I say.

“Let me take your bags,” says Grandpa.

“They’re heavy,” I say. “I’ll take them in myself.”

“Let me give you a bath,” says Grandma.

“I’m twenty-two,” I say.

“Let me cut you some apples,” says Grandpa.

“Sure. Thanks.”


Day 2

I wake up late. I’m bored.

“Can I help mop the floor?” I ask.

“No,” says Grandma.

“Can I help wash the dishes?” I ask.

“No,” says Grandpa.

“Can I help with anything?” I ask.

“Why don’t you just sit over there on the comfy chair? I’ll bring you some apples.”

I sit all day.


Day 3

I wake up at noon. I’m bored.

“I’ll wash my clothes,” I say.

“I’ll do it for you,” says Grandma.

“I’ll go buy some snacks,” I say.

“I’ll do it for you,” says Grandpa.

“I need to use the bathroom.”


Day 4

I lie in bed all day. I get up once to sit on the comfy chair. I accidentally raise my arms while stretching. A plate of apples mysteriously materialize in my hands.


Day 5

I wave my hand. A plate of apples appear in five minutes. “You’re two minutes late,” I say.


Day 6

“I want my apples cut into Mickey Mouse shapes,” I say.

They cut my apples in the shape of rats.

“What’s this supposed to be?” I demand.

“We don’t know what Mickey Mouse is,” they say.

I throw a hissy fit.


Day 7

I’m invalid. I am paralyzed from the waist down. I am confined to the comfy chair.

I demand to be called King of the Seven Kingdoms and Lord of the Seven Seas. With one wave of my hand a plate of apples appear in the shape of assorted Disney characters, and with another my Grandparents chant my name while sacrificing a goat. Slouched on my comfy throne, I am the omnipotent waste that sees all and knows none.

I love my grandparents.