How Does 'Dinner At The Homesick Restaurant' Explore Family Dysfunction?

My mom calls me on Friday. "Don't forget about tomorrow's family dinner. Cody loves shrimps, so you should buy more of those at the seafood market in the southern district. "Lexi loves lamb chops. Go take a look in the eastern district for them. Also, don't forget to buy the imported strawberries. Noah loves them a lot." I say yes to each and every request Mom makes. But as soon as I end the call, I receive a text on the family group chat. "I've already given Eileen a list of our favorite foods. It's tough for you to earn money these days, so you shouldn't buy anything." One second later, that message is deleted. Still, I'm flabbergasted by what I just read. I've been married for two years. Every Saturday throughout those years, I'm the one paying and organizing the family dinner of the week. I thought there's no need to be so petty when it comes to family. But it seems that they've already viewed me as the outsider a long time ago. In that case, I won't be attending the family dinner anymore.

Although I was the second child in the family, my mother loved me the most. When Dad bought my sister a new dress, she stayed up late knitting a sweater for me. When Grandma took my younger brother out for burgers, she baked me a homemade sponge cake. Until the New Year’s Eve dinner. Dad placed the big chicken drumstick onto my sister’s plate. Grandma immediately stuffed the other one into my brother’s. My mother hurriedly picked the chicken wing from her plate and placed it onto mine, smiling as she said, “I saved this especially for you.” The relatives laughed and teased, “Your family really has a clear division of love. Everyone spoils a different child. What a loving family.” The next second, I suddenly flipped the table. Under everyone’s stunned gaze, I grabbed that chicken wing and shoved it straight into my mother’s mouth.

During the holidays, I specifically go home to spend quality time with my family. Mom brings out a bowl of persimmons and says in a half-teasing manner, "This is for the Sherman family. Once you eat a persimmon, you'll be blessed with good luck. Outsiders aren't allowed to take from this bowl." Everyone begins fighting for the persimmons. I decide to grab one for myself as well. The next thing I know, the living room goes eerily silent. Dad drags me to the corner before he starts berating me. "You didn't get to eat any fruits when you were living with your in-laws, huh? Must you steal from our family? "Didn't you hear your mother saying that outsiders aren't allowed to take from the bowl? So why did you still take one? "Because of you, Vivian doesn't get anything at all!" I look around my surroundings. It turns out there are only eight persimmons when in reality, there are nine of us in the living room. Mom has been hinting at me the whole time that I'm the actual outsider here. So, I pass the persimmon to Vivian Andrews, my parents' goddaughter. Then, I dial my husband's phone number. "Kevin, there's no need to bring the holiday gifts over."

For the sake of that fake heiress, my biological parents and brother threw me into a horror game to "teach me some manners." The second the game started, the fake heiress, Nicole, went out of her way to provoke the ghosts nonstop. Once she'd pissed them off, she shoved me in front of her to take the punishment. As I lay there, tortured within an inch of my life, she planted her foot on my head and smirked. "Mom and Dad already made it clear—I'm the only one they truly love. They only brought you back to keep me entertained! Letting you deal with those ghosts for me is more than generous. If you dare complain, once my brother and the others get back, they'll skin you alive." In my past life, I treated them like family and gave in every single time. In the end, I was nothing but a stepping stone for them to beat the game—torn apart and devoured by over a dozen ghosts. But now, I've been reborn. "Welcome to Horror Instance: Happy Home." The moment I heard that mechanical announcement, I slapped the arrogant Nicole so hard she flew across the room. Because in this instance, the three bosses that terrorized every player… were all my family. The red-dressed female ghost who killed without hesitation was my adoptive mother. The monster with scissors for hands who ripped out hearts with a single swipe was my adoptive father. And the ruthless warden who devoured people whole, leaving no bones behind, was my adoptive brother. With them watching my back, why the hell would I keep putting up with this? A mocking smile curled across my lips as I said, "You're on my turf; none of you are getting out alive."

When my husband and I drop by his childhood home for Christmas dinner, my mother-in-law, Melissa Potter, is the only one busying away in the kitchen. Everyone else is on their phones. I've just taken a seat when Melissa begins to lecture me. "What, are you just going to sit your ass down and wait for food to come? Don't you know when to lend a helping hand? Am I supposed to exhaust myself for your sake?" From time to time, she keeps rattling the pots and pans loudly. "I can't believe those with healthy bodies want a 70-year-old like me to serve them! Does anyone here have any conscience?" Feeling a little uneasy, I gave my husband a tiny nudge. "Why don't you help Mom out?" After Melissa hears my suggestion, she gets even more pissed off. Thinking that this is my first Christmas with my in-laws, I don't really want to cause a scene here, so I get up to my feet and help her out. But the moment I enter the kitchen, Melissa delegates all the tasks to me. I endure my fury as much as I can while finishing the Christmas dinner preparations. When I'm about to head back to the dining table and dig in, Melissa suddenly speaks up. "Hold up. We got scores to settle before dinner."

When Mom is pregnant with me, Dad has an affair. The happy family that my older sister, Zara Johnson, once has falls apart after my birth. From then on, my parents become a couple who splits the bills. They keep track of every penny they spend raising me in a cold and calculated manner. By the time I'm undergoing my third round of chemotherapy after being diagnosed with cancer, they've been arguing nonstop. "This good-for-nothing child was conceived in the year you cheated on me. Why should I pay half of his medical bills?" "Because you enjoyed yourself in the process too! If you don't want to pay, then let him die. But don't you dare touch the tertiary education fund I've saved for our daughter!" Frustrated and furious, my parents storm out of the house one after the other. Right then, my illness flares up. I've already run out of pain medication at that point. The pain swallows me whole and even radiates deep into my bones. Clenching my teeth, I gather every penny I've managed to save and beg Zara to buy me more painkillers. She's in a hurry to meet her friends. So, she impatiently stuffs a handful of chewy candies into my medicine bottle before tossing it back to me. "Just take these. Stop pretending you're dying and keep dragging everyone down. I'm sick of looking at you," she says irritably. I stare at the chewy candy I'm holding in my palm. In that moment, my heart shatters into tiny little pieces. Maybe the only way Mom, Dad, and Zara can ever be happy… is if I disappear.