"Wesley, Kayla is your sister. Try to be more mature and stop being so mad at her, okay? These are your favorite foods. Kayla told me to buy them for you. Give them a try!"
I saw the fork licked by him stirring in the dishes and my plate and couldn't help feeling nauseous and started to vomit.
My behavior inflamed my sister. "Wesley! Can you stop acting like that? Do you think we're abusing you?"
Meanwhile, Max looked artificially sorrowful and blamed me, "Wesley, I know I'm not a good cook, but do you really have to insult me like that?"
Kayla looked at me coldly. "You're a man. Can you be like a man?"
Enduring the pain in my abdomen, I started to engulf all the dishes that hurt my body.
She was stunned for a few seconds, then started to sneer again. "Our education of courtesy and decency has all been in vain. Don't eat like a country boy!"
My heart skipped a beat.
Country boy...
I remembered when I was ten years old, Kayla and I went back to the countryside to visit our grandparents, and we met many countryside children there.
At that time, she did not mind the mud on their bodies and washed the dust off for them with her own hands with an oath.