Another carpet, another case of the BitchFace. She tried to smile and it almost incapacitated her. My mother calls it Fu Gwa Gon: Dry Bitter Melon Peels.

Her godson married a Fu Gwa Gon. Even when she’s happy she looks like she’s at a funeral. One day a few years ago, mother was playing mahjong and Fu Gwa Gon was sitting in her eyeline. Needless to say, the Squawking Chicken dumped large cash on the table that afternoon. Later on at the banquet, she spent the entire night alternating between hissing at my godbrother about his poor choice and trying to set him up with the waitress assigned to our table.

He married her. Not the waitress. The Fu Gwa Gon. Mother skipped the wedding in Hong Kong but did send a gift. She is still bitching about the fact that the jade bracelets she’d been saving for his future bride for 20 years are being wasted on a sour face.

Mother would not like Mrs Dempsey.

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