"Why always give me the chicken leg?" my five-year-old asked as I placed it in her bowl. We bought half a chicken because we couldn’t finish a whole one. "It represents love." I explained that when I was little, meat was a luxury, and the chicken legs always went to my siblings. "Why?" she asked. "I’m the older one," I answered. "Didn't you think it unfair?" she pressed. I did, but I wasn't the favorite. She paused. "Mom, let’s take turns having the chicken leg. Your turn tonight." I felt a sting in my eyes. Raising a child is healing.
Huina Zheng either writes as an admission coach at work or writes for fun after work.