My mom likes to tell me and my sisters funny stories... well, at least WE think they're funny. They're mostly of her childhood, but there are one or two contemporary narrations. I chose a few of her classics - oh, I also threw in a few funny things that's she's simply done or said... kinda like.. bonus tracks on a CD or something. Enjoy.


(1)

My mom was for some strange reason pushed ahead 2 grades when she was only 5. Well, she was often picked on by her much older and bigger classmates because she was was so clearly out of place. Even her teacher was pretty mean to her... well, remember this came from HER, so maybe the teacher wasn't really THAT mean. Anyway, because her family could not afford a brand new backpack for my mom, she was given a hand-me-down from her big brother (8-years-older-big), and the backpack was HUGE. She loved this bag. It was not only a gift from her brother whom she worshipped, but also a symbol of being big enough to go to school. The size, however, was a problem for my tiny mom, who was about only twice the size of the backpack she was given.

One of the things she did to pass the time on her 1 hour walk to school everyday was to collect things. Pretty things. One day she found a pretty pebble, one of those shiny, swirly ones. She dropped it in her backpack and continued walking. She rather liked the clickity-scratch-putt sound it made against the rough inside of her industrial strength backpack, and pranced joyously the rest of the way, trying to make as much noise with the pebble as possible.

Ms. Oh, her kindergarden teacher, made a comment about my mom's backpack one day. "Yah, Jung Ja cho-ewn hak-seng eyah!" or "Wow, look at what a good student Jung Ja is!" "Ee kewn check-kabang-ewl poah!" or "Look at this nice big schoolbag!" She looked at her bag and continued, "What kind of books have you brought to class Jung Ja?" My mom sat up proudly and opened her mouth to speak... but nothing came out. She realized, she had no books. Ms. Oh walked over to my mom and picked up the backpack, and a look of surprise came over her face as to the lightness of such a huge bag. My mom put her hands between her knees and pursed her lips tightly as she prepared herself for the inevitable. Ms. Oh opened the bag, flipped it upside down, and shook it over her desk gently. When nothing came out, she shook again, a little harder. When nothing came out still, she briskly rattled the bag up and down, only to produce a tiny pebble, which bounced off the desk, onto a chair, and danced over to my mom's feet. Needless to say, it suddenly became a very long year for my mom, whose classmates, older and much bigger than her, didn't waste a single opportunity to poke fun.

(2)

Like me, my mom was a slacker. She rarely came prepared for class. After getting her 5th 0% on her spelling test - (you see, my mom didn't even know what a test was, and sometimes just handed them in blank). Losing patience in my mom's cluelessness, Ms. Kim, her teacher, took my mom out into the hallway and asked her, "What is your favorite food in the whole wide world?" My mom, oblivious to her poor school performance, answered with enthusiasm, "Chap-sahl-dukk!" (a sweet Korean rice cake). Ms. Kim handed her a note and said, "Well, give this to your father and he will surely give you all the chap-sahl-dukk you want." My mom couldn't wait to get home, so she ran. Well, ran/jogged/walked - whatever her 6 year old body could maintain for the long journey. My mom arrived home panting, and out of breath, tugged on her father's shirt and shoved the folded letter in his face. Needless to say, the letter relayed all the events to my grandfather, who was less than pleased. It took my mom a while before figuring out why she was given a sore butt instead of the chap-sahl-dukk she expected.


3) *work in progress*