"Maycans stupid."
Normally, I'd agree with that statement. Except that it was coming from the father-in-law. Who is, quite legally, American. His legal permanent resident card from China, though greatly loved, sits idle in a drawer while his US driver's license travels with him daily.
Agreement also goes against our dinner tradition. First, Old Man makes some hyperbolic controversial statement. Topics revolve around his state of poverty, the need for Man and I to make more money, or the horrible state of Maycans. Next, I balk at the statement and two of us go head to head. The remainder of the night alternates between Old Man's promulgation of his crazy ideas and my more useful Cantonese phrases.
Mm hai. Lei hai chi siin.
Mm gi doh.
Lei mm hai meigwatyan. Lei mm sik meigwat culture.
I know, as with any argument with Old Man, that all this is for naught. He's a stubborn man and no matter what I say, he will continue on in the same way as always, his mischievous smile lighting up the room. So I decided to agree with Old Man this time.
But only so I could reminded him that he, too, is a Maycan. And by his logic, his IQ is on the same level as mine.
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