Around the dinner table is where a lot of the lectures that I get occur. This is because, due to how the seating is arranged, I end up sitting between my parents and the table is right in front of me and, thus, I am effectively locked-in until I am finished eating my dinner (or finished listening to the rage) and leave the room.
But today, my father came to a whole new low. Instead of really insulting me, he actually insulted himself. He went on and on about how I was holding my bowl properly and how I never seem to be able to learn how to hold a pair of chopsticks (father, I do, I just choose not to – it’s a fairly simple concept). Then he told me that if I were to ever visit my paternal uncle and aunts, they would think that he is incapable of teaching his own child how to be polite and proper at the dinner table.
To which, I looked up at him for a moment and said “Yes, pretty much.” before going back to my dinner. He sputtered when he realized that I had just insulted him, but he didn’t say much after that.