CJ: Inside Edition

          I shoved the car door closed with a grunt, shouldering my three bags awkwardly across my back. It was 10:15 pm, and my body ached as I waddled to the front door of my house. Homework: webassign, blog post, history prework. Great. Already half asleep, I stepped into the foyer, and was immediately greeted by the sounds of cacophonous thrums echoing throughout the living room. I approached the couch with my hands outstretched and grabbed the entity sprawled across it.   “Dad, you’re snoring again.” If I could get rid of something from my life, it would be my dad’s incessant snoring. Most weeknights, after a long day of school and dance rehearsals, I return home exhausted and dreading the night of homework to come. My night does not improve when I realize that my dad has fallen asleep in the living room, which connects every corner of the house. Frustration rises in me, and I wake him up.  Though uncontrollable by mere will, this conditi...

      *Note: I need to expand my ending and find more perspectives, so any advice on this is welcome!      I have always loved food. Some of the happiest pictures of me as a child are those where I am covered in food. The rest of my family shares the same sentiment, so when my dad was diagnosed with a kidney disease, I challenged myself to take on a new role.  Growing up with my mother’s cooking, my family was never short on delicious meals. My mom was always testing new recipes and perfecting old ones, so the kitchen was often filled with the aroma of Korean spices or baked goods. Later, as my brother and I became busy with our various sports and other extracurriculars, meals became our family’s main interaction. Eventually, I became fascinated with the cooking aspects of our meals. My mom would assign me the easiest jobs of stirring pots and occasionally, cutting vegetables. I felt a sense of control in the kitchen, and I longed to have the same...