Sunny spring day, early afternoon. I am sitting at an outside table with my mother, father, grandmother and her husband. 

Her husband, my grandfather by default, stretches out his arm and shows me his open bag of crisps. I think he is offering me one. I see he is smiling at me, which makes me certain of this, so I reach out my own hand towards the packet’s opening. But then he quickly snatches it away, laughing. I hear the rest of my family laugh too, at the joke: a joke I don’t understand.

I am not sure why, but I now feel for the first time a feeling of falling and sinking. With this new sensation I retreat underneath the table in tears. Attempting to hide my disappointment, and thus my foolishness.