Today is the weekend, and our parents have taken us to the zoo. As usual, we like to eat sweet potato porridge for breakfast. But today, since the sweet potatoes were sold out, my mom had no choice but to use some taro as a substitute. Unexpectedly, the taro from our balcony was delicious, and our family greedily enjoyed it without complaint.
Before leaving, my still-beautiful mother dressed up in vibrant attire, so skillfully that one wouldn't guess she's a housewife. My not-yet-fully-mature father quickly changed into a double-breasted suit, looking embarrassingly handsome with his unkempt appearance causing quite a commotion. Our imitative sister who loves beauty wore adjusting undergarments, making an effort to dress up in flashy clothing, proudly wearing her newly bought high heels.
We, brothers in adversity, rode in a simple car and soon arrived at the zoo. Unexpectedly, there were so many visitors that chaos ensued, separating our family. My father worked tirelessly to broadcast messages everywhere, searching through the crowds during the night finally locating me and our sister, almost mistaking strangers for family. In the struggle, we pushed forward with reason and empathy, squeezing to the front of the monkey cage, taking a forced smile family portrait despite the circumstances.
Next, we went to the noisy bird garden to enjoy what seemed like a natural symphony of grass rustling and birds chirping. Later, as my father enthusiastically explained things incorrectly, a cool breeze blew, causing a chill down our spines. My mother immediately draped a yellow robe on my father, urging us to moderate our grief.
By evening, due to the holiday, every restaurant was bustling with activity. So, my mother led us through several moves akin to relocation, finally deciding on hot pot. One restaurant had just changed its wallpaper; though plain, it was beautifully lit, creating a somewhat tense yet atmospheric ambiance. The waitresses, moving about flirtatiously, were busy attending to customers, their sweet words masking ulterior motives, making guests feel as if they were in a hedonistic paradise.
With voracious appetites, we ordered a mixed hot pot. My composed father took charge, requesting the skilled waitress with her knife to hurry and prepare the rabbit for cooking since our family had already finished preparing ourselves, eagerly awaiting the hot pot to reach perfection. Unfortunately, the pot lid was too small to fully cover everything. Once the broth boiled, we hastily removed our clothes to cool down, working together cunningly to grab as much as we could, ensuring nothing was left behind. After our ravenous consumption, only a few leftovers remained, akin to grains in a vast field or fish that slipped through the net. My mother wanted to add noodles but noticed the flame was weakening, so she hesitated. Fortunately, my father called over a server to bring more firewood, reigniting the flames, satisfying our restlessness with a sense of personal gain.
After the meal, feeling like walking corpses, my sister and I felt triumphant. However, when it came time to pay, the boss revealed his true nature, demanding exorbitant fees. My father became enraged, and my mother lamented in sorrow.
Ah! This blessed Sunday ended with my father sacrificing his wallet in a display of righteousness, leaving our family depleted and fleeing in disarray.