“What time is it? You went out and didn’t even bring me anything to eat. A university professor, you think? You have no sense at all!”
Though George was just an illiterate old man from the countryside, his temper was worse than any high-ranking official I’d ever met.
For the next five years, George constantly berated me over the smallest issue, sometimes even hitting me.
Seeing me stand still, George’s voice shot up several octaves.
“Are you deaf or mute? I’m talking to you! Go downstairs to that bakery and buy me 2.6 lbs of sweet bean pastries, fresh from the oven. I won’t eat them cold!”
“And get the tofu custard from the alley across the street, extra cilantro and chili oil, plus two freshly fried dough sticks, and go easy on the salt. The doctor said my blood pressure is a bit high, and it’s all because you haven’t been taking proper care of me!”
He lay in bed ordering me around without even lifting an eyelid.
It felt like I wasn’t his son-in-law, but a servant at his command. Seeing George’s casual arrogance, I clenched my fists.
Before, even if I went hungry, I made sure he was fed and comfortable.