You’re Not invited to dinner

For those of you that may not know, I’m a half breed. I’m only using the term “Half Breed” becasue black people who are proud to be dark as night time typically throw that joke at me. Honestly, I don’t care becasue I know I got a better grade of hair than them. What makes my hair so incredible (besides the afro) is that I’m mixed with filipino. My mother is from overseas from a group of islands that gets hit every now and then with typhoons and all those other crazy sea storms.

Now in my opinion, I think Asian food is the best. Matter of fact, I think any food that isn’t made here in the United States is better. Growing up, I’ve had to eat whatever my mom cooks and about 5 minutes ago I just got done eating some noodles she made. They were delicious by the way. The food my mom makes is wonderful and people like my dad’s side of the family drool over it, especially her eggrolls. Now my mom isn’t a chef, she’s just a woman from the Philippines who makes food she grew up around. Being that it’s considered “exotic” for the lack of a better term, people automatically assume that she is a great cook.

It’s always after I reveal to someone that I’m mixed with Filipino, I get the, “Can she cook?” question. Of course I reply with a HELL YEAH and whoever I’m speaking to tells me they’re coming to my house. As usual here I am trying to figure out why people ALWAYS got to say that. YES my mother makes great asian food but that certainly does not mean you’re invited to my house for dinner. You better stay home and eat your pork chops drenched in BBQ sauce or some of that unseasoned fried chicken that (Joe) pulled out the oven. While y’all do that, I’m gonna eat this boiled fish, with rice and noodles.

~ Keep it all smiles

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