Author’s Note: This work is inspired by the “Tiny Love Story” column that originated in the New York Times.
My father has always known when I’m hungry before I do. When I was little, he’d prepare snacks when we couldn’t sleep: a fresh packet of ramen, or dumplings, or the leftovers my mother nagged us about eating. We called these “midnight snacks,” although I was always in bed well before midnight struck. Now, he offers corn soup or hot pot fixings as I labor away at my computer during the hours closer to midnight, not letting my growling stomach go unheeded.
He fixes my snack, I eat every bite, and without words, we say that we love each other.
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