Ma's old man never says much in English. Never says much of anything unless Ma pisses him off. He gets a fire in his eyes then, yelling in his foreign language, gesturing with a dripping spoon or one of his many sharp knives.
This morning he was in a real good mood I guess because he poked his yellow head out of the kitchen before he began making my breakfast and said, "Cold!" He was rubbing his arms and stamping his feet when he said it before he disappeared back into the kitchen.
"Fucking right it's cold." I shouted through the wall. "Colder than a well digger's ass."
Lowering my voice I told Ma, "He sure is talkative today."
"Today he happy because I give him blowjob for breakfast," Ma explained. "Every man like talk, be happy after that."
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