Burger Boy

When I got back from America, Thun was eager to tell me:

"Dad, while you were away, and Mommy and Jason went to the country-house, I stayed in Bangkok by myself!"

I looked at Poo and she was nervous. She knew that I might not approve of an 11-year-old staying in the big city all by himself. But, what-the-hell, Bangkok is safe, at least compared to LA or NY, especially for an 11-year-old who has street-sense, like Thun.

"So, Daddy," continued Thun, "guess what I ate?"

"Fried rice!" I guessed.

"Nope."

"Pork necks?"

"Nope."

"Noodle soup?"

"Nope."

"OK," I gave up, exasperated, "what did you eat?"

"Burgers!" replied Thun.

"Really?" I asked.

"Yes, burgers! three times a day -- burger for breakfast, burger for lunch, and burger for dinner -- I went to 7-11 and ate microwave burgers!!"

"Look at this silly boy!" interjected Poo, "he wants to be a farang!"

"But, Thun," I asked, "why did you eat so many burgers?"

"I am practicing!" he responded.

"Practicing for what?" I asked.

"Practicing for living in America!!!"