I'm Afraid of Americans

I'm here, in leafy New Jersey (The Garden State, get it?) and although it's only been six days I have already had everything my stomach desires except bodboti+chingri bhorta. It is lovely really, such a pleasant thought, to think that there is still enough time to repeat my favourite dishes *happy sigh*. I'm here again, smack dab in the middle of my family's blood-pressure-high-making day to day life. We are truly a Bangali family; a conversation cannot be had without shouting at the top of our lungs. Abbu and Ammu both lose their glasses atleast 3 times a day, sometimes to be found on the tops of the refrigerator or their heads. Everybody leaves everything, everywhere. Nidu with his myriad of cartoon imitations, Abbu's wonky dances to Russian songs while Ammu screams at them to behave like bhodro manush is the stuff of everyday. A meal is not complete without three different kinds of dishes (I'm not even counting the veggies or daal here) and since I apparently starve in Toronto, I've got to have seconds of everything (not that I'm coplaining!). My days are filled with a series of exclamation points while I urge my parents to calm down before I faint from all the madness, but just in jest, you understand. I miss Toronto because this isn't home, but it's really very nice to be here with my crazy family again.