plz help me with my english creative!!!!

[johnyo]

Identity and Belonging

I can see her wrinkled and cheerful brown eyes full of anticipation and pride. I pick up my spoon tentatively, slowly waiting for her to give in. Patience is the key to victory. That’s what she always told me. But I’m out classed this time! She is the god of patience. She has all the time in the world, who am I kidding. We’ll be sitting at the dinner table for eternity.

bà (Grandma) says “xhao fu”(heart cakes) will make me “grow big and strong,”. I can’t stand the thought of those Vietnamese cakes. They look foul. I just want a piece of mudcake or something. Anyway, why does she cares so much about me  growing strong?  I am and always will be small and puny because of my Asian figure anyway.

She still watches carefully, assessing my every move from my knees shaking to my eyes staring at the pigmented blue vase with its fine dragon art. I pick the “xhao fu” level to my mouth and swallow my spit back into my throat. She’s going to win the battle, the current peace of my taste buds is are about to be destroyed.

Ding Dong… Ding Dong – “yesss,” the high pitch notes play, liberates the living existence of my taste buds. She looks at me with a disbelieving smirk, in that sort of “you won this round” smirk. Hee hee, maybe next time bà. She steps onto her wooden block slippers and dashes out the kitchen as I try think of a brilliant plan to get me out of this unbearable situation.

She takes the package from the delivery guy, removes the batteries from the doorbell and leaves them on the dinner table – bà can be so cheeky sometimes. She stares at me with a much bigger smile, I can barely even see her eyes and her teeth are as prominent as the iconic  Luna Park entrance!

Once again, I push the food  around – leaving traces of grime on the plate. I have the most phony smile, I endeavour to hold my cheekbones into place but my frown prevails over my face.. They  smell like tofu and look like  rolled up sacks of mud crunched  together into a sock. I pick one up level with my mouth and close my eyes; only a miracle can get me out this unbearable situation.

“Knock knock knock.,”
“yesss”!

She ignores the door but I know she hears it, “KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK,”, the door banging is as loud AC/DC concert! “bà, you know I can’t eat when I’m distracted and all.”;I try charming her. I tilt my head to the side, held my chin up and gave her the biggest grin. She pouts her lip and stares into my eyes; she looks like a little girl who didn’t get her lollipop. She trudges out the kitchen as I still have time to think of a brilliant plan.

She gasps for air and struggles to speak as I struggle to hear her, “if you don’t want to eat my cakes then that’s fine.,” She clamours in an awkward battle to rest on the stool  and there’s a look in her eyes as she sighs and looks down sadly.. Her disappointment shines through vividly, my memory twitches as the shame I brought upon her lurks from within through the sparkling flash of water in her eye reflected from the buzzing ceiling lights. Her look reminded of when we were living in Vietnam when. Where me and bà used to watch the variety television show, “Paris by night” on a Friday nights. , bà and I used to cook outrageously funny looking food together. She was always there for me. , If I fell over on the dirt she would put a band aid over my knee and kiss  my forehead to make me feel better. If I was sick, she’d bring me her special herbal tea. She’d welcome my  all my cousins and friends at dinner time and we’d all talk about funny things that happened that day. One day I accidentally insulted her an I was mortified by the sadness on her face.

She had that exact expression. I hadn’t  seen this side of her for so long., it had been hiding under her graceful and beautiful smile.
 
Guilt ridden, I pick up her special Vietnamese heart cakes level to my mouth. The coating was slimy and slippery. I look up only to see bà’s warm smile with a tear at  the corner of her eye. I wrap my lips around the special heart cakes.

[“This is for you bà,” I nervously bite down, my teeth slowly breaking the shell of the chocolate coating and I have  opened the gates to heaven. The succulent, moist coating breaks,  chocolate pours out, a sweet raspberry after taste kicks in I never want this sensation to end. ]

I look up at bà and she beams at me. She says something in Vietnamese and I say to myself, “I’ll never mistrust your cooking again bà .