My mom used to hold and rock me in her lap while talking to me. At least half the time, her breath smelled like kimchi. She'd start saying something like how much she loves me, and I would frown and turn away saying, "Your breath smells!"
Then she would crack up and laugh by herself.
Oh, mother, how I would love to smell your kimchi breath again. How I would love to lie in your lap and look up at your face again.
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