This post is exclusively for my mom

Mother,
     Erik and I cooked for our host family tonight. I did...some of the cooking. I have visual evidence.

Nobody told me that we were supposed to acknowledge the camera....

We made spaghetti and chicken parmesan. Erik is a pretty good cook, and I helped (imagine that as a 7 year old would say it). We also bought all the ingredients at the market and everything. Gosh, I'm growing up. 

I sliced these vegetables. I sliced the crap out of these vegetables. I sliced the crap out of most of these vegetables.

In the middle, there may or may not have been some sort of group dancing to the Beach Boys. Ranjit turned it way up, as all fathers do. Turned the bass way way up, as all confused fathers do. We cooked and danced in the true American style: poorly. 

In the end, our parents were so happy with us and our efforts, Ranjit gave everyone celebratory whiskey. (Imagine him speaking very slowly and thoughtfully, as all old men do.) "You may have to use water.........I do not have enough..soda.....as I did not know....that I would have the sufficient enthusiasm....to offer everyone drinks ha ha ha."

A happy family, happy at last. Together.

The meal went really well. I just wanted to tell you that. I may not have done much "cooking" per se, but I certainly watched food being cooked, which will be an invaluable skill when I'm a father and need to provide mismatched and poorly prepared food for my children, when they're left no other option. 

Love, Adam