House of Shouts

I shout. She shouts. The kids shout. When Mr. Wet Jackfruit (Mít Ướt) and his mom join us, they shout too. Shouting is inevitable when we have too many boys in the house. They have way too much energy and they are way too competitive.

No matter how many times I told them that not everything has to turn into a competition, they just don’t listen. Even washing hands, they don’t want to be last. Every time Mr. Wet Jackfruit doesn’t get his way, he bawls like a baby. When he hears one thing he doesn’t like, such as “You’re wasting your food,” he cries. It’s getting to the point that you can’t say anything to the kid without making him cry.

On the other hand, I need to do better a better job at staying calm. Patience is a bitch.