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I Thought There Would Be Dumplings

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Mornings are a nightmare. Some people exercise when the sun slowly awakens from his sweet dream. Others stay in their bed until the sun retires. I’m special. I drag myself up out of the bed when the sun is peeking beyond the horizon.
     

“Hey, it’s seven o’clock now,” my mom sings in a swift tone, and opens my door. “Time to wake up!” Then, she closes it as usual.
   

 I mutter to myself, “It’s definitely not seven yet. I shall sleep some more.” Then I pull my bedding over my head, trying to recover from the coldness that has attacked my face at night.
   

 “Ugh…” I say, annoyed at my phone alarm. I attempt to pick my phone up from its cozy bed, a stuffed panda, but the charger battles with me.
   

 “Come on.” I rip my phone apart from the charger and press the prodigious button labeled “dismiss”. The gratifying music ceases instantaneously.
   

 “Finally, I can sleep again!” I emit a yawn. Then I exhale out from the obstacles I have just encountered. Changing my position and returning under the covers, I tangle myself up with the bedding. My relaxation time freezes as I hear the heavy footsteps coming toward my room. I drag myself up. Grab my clothes. Turn on the light. Five seconds. Boom! I break my record again.
     

“Crystal, why are you still not getting up? It’s 7:20 already.” My mom pushes the door open, and walks away. My feet swim down into the warm bedding once again. Silence, with the marching of food chemicals tingling down my nose. “Dumplings.” I smile. I tilt my head just a bit to see the time on my alarm clock. It’s time to officially wake up. But first, let me close the disturbing, wooden door.
   

 “Crystal!” My mom yells from the faraway kitchen.
   

 “Ah?” I sit up. Blank stares return from the faded yellow walls around me. After two minutes or so, I expeditiously get dressed, and wash my hands to take out the contacts I had placed on my eyes the night before.
   

 Suddenly, my dad flings the door open and walks over to me, wafting a strong scent of cigarette smoke.

“Crystal Chen! Get out of your bed!”
   

 I cover my nose. “You smoked again. It smells really bad.” He walks out as I wave him out of my room.
   

 I close the door and take a deep breath. “Besides, I’m not even in my bed! I’m washing my contacts!’
     

“Okay, okay. Jeez.” My dad seems to be stunned by my sudden grouchiness. Afterwards, I hurriedly walk to my bathroom. I brush my teeth, wash my face, fix my hair.
     

“Crystal!”
     

“Ah?”
   

 “What are you doing?” My mom shouts angrily. “The noodles are cooling down!”
   

 “Okay!” I run like a person on fire all the way to the dining room.
   

 “Stop saying ah, ah, ah next time.” Her brows wrinkle, making them look more like a unibrow.
     

Then what am I supposed to answer you with? Confused at what to say next time. Nevertheless, I mumble out “fine.”


Surprisingly, my breakfast isn’t dumplings. Instead, it’s noodles. I totally knew that. I force a smile out of my curved down lips.
   

“Mom, why are we eating noodles four days in a row?” I grumble after swallowing down a mouthful of noodles and a bite of a fried pork chop.
   

 “Apparently, your dad is in love with them, and when I asked for your opinion yesterday, you said nothing.”


But I did say dumplings. Should’ve reminded her. I fall into reflection.
   

 “Then I want dumplings. Shrimp dumplings for tomorrow.” I blurt out.
     

“No problem.”
   

 I open my phone to check the time,  it’s now 7:50.
     

“AHHHHHHHH…”
   

 “I’m gonna be late. I’m gonna be late. I am really gonna be late.”
     

“Walk, don’t run.” I hear my mom say as I slam the door.
   

 “Okay.” Then I begin to race with the wind, until my feet are sore,  and reach the back door of my school. I’m not late yet.




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