When I am an old woman, I will wear my pants past my belly button.
I shall become a cute Asian grandmother
And I shall shout silly proverbs at disobedient children
And force my grandchildren to be smart (or else).
I shall cook the most delicious Chinese food
And eat rice with every meal
And sew horrendous sweaters made of wool
And grow vegetables that no one likes to eat.
I shall do crazy things like fish for crabs with soda cans,
And steal other people’s pretty possessions, but have no one suspect me,
And cover my house in red to celebrate Chinese New Year.
You can spend hours dusting a house that needs no cleaning
And become a stickler for organization, who prides in their children’s achievements
Or only complain about the growing obesity of children
And mumble to yourself.
But now we must let our pants sit on our hips
And listen to depressing music
And disregard what the elderly say.
We will eat junk food and pretend to be someone we’re not.
But maybe I ought to act more stereotypically Asian
So people who know me are not too surprised
When suddenly I am a cute Asian grandma and start to wear my pants above my belly button.