Last week, my mother just celebrated her birthday. At the same time, I made a relentless effort to buy her a half-gallon of ice-cream. Thus, it paved a way for me to write about her. I’m a good son, eh? First and foremost, I can say that my mom is the best mother in world. By the fact that she played with death just to bring me out of this world, my previous statement is undeniable. Also, my mother is undoubtedly a great preacher–of my life, at least. In every single day of my existence, she always stuffs gamut of tenets in my ears: from the way I should wear clothes to the type of music I should be listening to. Sometimes, it leads me to wonder; where did she get all of those? From watching Korean TV series, I think. Anyway, I vaguely realized that, however, she wants me to be a (real) James Dean. I’m not quite sure with the latter, though.
