fingerling potatoes

So I usually visit Korea every 8 years or so. The last time I went, we brought Husband (who was just Boyfriend at the time, but became Fiance after we found out my mom was introducing him for the entire trip as such). We went to this crazy dinner at a restaurant where my father’s entire family sat at one table — it was packed with people I hadn’t seen since my teen years, cousins, aunts, uncles, all speaking Korean, some looking vaguely familiar, some not at all.

My dad and I sat next to each other and didn’t say anything at all. We both shut down, because it was just too bloody overwhelming. Anyway, after we ate, we all gathered in the parking lot and one of my cousins, Robin, gave me a present to open after I have a kid, since she wasn’t sure when we’d see each other again. I didn’t open it then, since I was just coping with being engaged. That was like six years or so ago now, and I forgot about the present, but found it buried in the back of our kitchen closet. I just opened it:

Dude, it was ten pairs of baby socks the size of fingerling potatoes. So cute and disturbingly small.