I lived with my parents for a few years during the recession, ruining their house with my greeting cards and tornado-like workstation that ate their first floor.
I worked in the dining room on my laptop. Occasionally Mom would slide open the dining room door and say something.
MOM: Falling asleep?
ME (entering invoices): Why would you think I was falling asleep?
MOM: Just a suggestion! Use your time wisely.
“Ever been to Jiufen?” I asked Mom.
“You should go! It has a nice view of the sea. It’s supposed to be the city that inspired Spirited Away. And they have the best gweh I’ve ever tasted - your favorite, with taro and the green one with radish or whatever the chewy stuff is.”
She looked skeptical. “How did you get there? You don’t speak the language.”
Two orange tabby brothers followed us home in December. They lived with us for five weeks, snuggling, wrestling, running around like madmen and punching each other in the face, until their owners saw our “found” signs (which had been posted in front of their house for weeks).
Chupa misses them a ton. They shredded furniture, ate my expensive paintbrushes, pawed wet paintings and shoved my brush around whenever I painted, but they were cute and soft fuzzballs.