Mom

Dear Mom,
I love you no matter how much of a technopeasant or n00b you are, because I know that you at least know how to Skype, and that’s all that really matters. I love you even when you buy me the weak-ass sugar-free yogurt on accident instead of the regular kind, or when you let Ryan come to orchestra concerts in his T-Rex Halloween costume, because you also stay up with me to quiz me on organic chemistry even though you have to wake up at 5 the same morning. I love you during your moments of English weakness, like the time you called Dad a “son fucker” instead of a “fun sucker,” because I get to make fun of you and you don’t even get angry. I love you even when you reorganize my room without telling me and I can’t find anything anymore, because you also still pack my lunch and make sure you get to wave goodbye to me as I leave in the morning. I love you even when you yell at me in Korean (it’s freaking terrifying, by the way), because you also never pressured me to be an Asian robot. I love you even when I seemed like I didn’t, because I was really just a hormonal, asinine teenager. I love you even when you get overprotective, because I secretly don’t really want to be 1,300 miles away from you next year, either. I love you because you told me the other day that I’m your best friend.
I’m sorry it took me a while to realize this. Even though people say you get to pick your friends, but you’re stuck with your family, I can’t say I’m all that bummed with the family I got.
Love,
Me

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