the next week i brought rich to mom's birthday dinner, sort of like a surprise present.

i figured she was going to have to accept rich, like it or not.

oh, rich, this is my father.

happy birthday mom. and ma, this is rich.

great to meet you. boy something smells wonderful

i guess we came to the right place, huh? here you are.

ya know, waverly's been telling me you are the best cook.

i think maybe we got her.

so many spots on his face.

of course, the night was still young.

thank god i already prepped him on the emily post of chinese manners.

(speaking chinese) actually, there are a few things i forgot to mention.

uh, let me make a toast.

he shouldn't have had that second glass, when everyone else had only half an inch just for taste

shrimp, my favorite.

he should have taken only a small spoonful of the best dish until everyone had had a helping

he has good appetite.

he shouldn't have bragged he was a fast learner.

but the worst was when rich criticized my mother's cooking and he didn't even know what

he had done.

as is, the chinese cook's custom my mother always insults her own cooking.

but only with the dishes she serves with special pride.

this dish not salty enough.

no flavor, it's too bad to eat, but, please.

that was our queue to eat some, and proclaim it the best she'd ever made.

you know linda, all this needs is a little soy sauce.

(gasps)