mama c: no costa rica.

And so continues my papa c and mama c series. Papa c is my crazy dad, and mama c is my crazy mom. My parental units are first generation immigrants. They are annoying but wonderfully cute and endearing. They are hard working but quirky. I love them with all my heart.

This is going to be a weekly, ongoing series on my blog about the random and lovable and personal anecdotes from the lives of my parental units. This is not to make fun of them but to actually record my fond memories of them. Hope you grow to love them, too.

Back in March, I was really ridiculously blessed and privileged to travel to Costa Rica on a 9-day trip. It was such an amazing trip and country and people that I’m planning to go again next year to hopefully volunteer on a coffee plantation. When I told my mother of such plans, she 1) flipped out (per usual), and 2) sent me the following text:

No costa rica do yoga teacher

What?! You’d rather have me become a yoga instructor instead?? What kind of Korean mother says that?

Apparently mine does.

(By the way, I taught mama c how to text with the T9 feature. Blessing and a curse. She’s so hip now.)

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