“Amanda! Come eat breakfast!” Mother called.
I dragged myself into the kitchen, coughing from a cold I caught. “This looks delicious,” I said.
“Your voice sounds terrible.”
“This is my sexy voice.”
Mother looked at me, “What? Your sexy voice?”
“Yeah, my sexy voice.” I made my eyelids heavy and glanced at Mother sideways. “‘Hello…boyfriend'” I said, winking dramatically.
“Oh my God, oh my goodness, Amanda!”
“What did you buy?” Mother asked after Sister and I returned from a massive shopping trip on Monday, Korean Independence Day.
I dumped out the bags (minus the Oreos, which I’d hidden in my room so Sister and I could share them later) and we went through everything. I brought out two solid perfumes I’d picked up at Lush and Sister and I talked about the different scents.
“They had a scent called Lust, but it smelled terrible,” I said.
Sister agreed, “It smelled like a urinal cake.”
“Not like lust,” I said, shaking my head.
“What is lust?”
I thought for a minute. For some reason I had expected this word would be Konglishized. Sister pulled up the dictionary on her handphone and her eyes grew large.
I said, “When two people love each other very much,” I put on a dramatic voice and threw my arms out like I was greeting a long-gone lover, “‘I love you!’ ‘I love you, too!’ ‘You don’t need to wear clothing!’ ‘Yes!'”
Mother and Sister were both laughing hard. Finally Mother said, “Oh my God, Amanda, you have a talent.”