My mother in law won’t smile for anyone except me. I’m honoured. From downstairs, she enquires after me: “Why is he working in the evening?”

We’re not the best of communicators. My substandard language skills only enable us to cover the basics, and my smattering of her native tongue is deployed more for comedic effect to cause momentary laughter.

Still, she’s not very talkative either. My one mission: to cheer her up, recalling, “Even a smile is charity.”

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