Sitting around the table, I felt the tension as I ate. I silently picked up an anchovy with my chopsticks and ate it. I looked at this familiar side dish and gave myself an idea of how to lighten the mood among the family. Slowly and carefully, I stood up and lifted my arms in the motion of an anchovy would be in. Then, I thrust my arms to the side and made a quiet ‘bleh’ sound effect. My parents immediately got the joke and laughed. Relieved that the tension in the air had started to abate, I looked towards my siblings to see if the joke had the same effect. My brother tried to suppress a laugh, and my sister was grinning. I sat back down and didn’t need to say anything else. After dinner, everyone was back in a happy condition. Looking back on this day, I laugh at my foolish ways to entertain my family.

This phase started on an eventless, simple day. 멸치 is a traditional Korean side dish that I’ve always eaten without question. This is not your typical slimy, greasy, American anchovies shoved in a can. No, these were delicious. They were dried, and my mom would often cook them in a pan with 고추장, a red pepper paste. On the day my phase started, I picked up the 멸치, the dried anchovy, and set it on top of my spoon. As I felt the soft tickle of the 멸치 in my mouth as I bit down, my eyes passed over to the anchovy container. How strange, I wondered. Every dried anchovy was curved slightly at the tip. I attempted to find at least one straight anchovy, but I was unsuccessful. My curiosity got the better of me, and I plummeted down the huge rabbit hole of imagination as I tried to find a reason for this strange curl. Eventually, I concluded that all anchovies died sideways. I decided to ask my wise and all-knowing mother why this was. But surely words were not enough to explain, so I was even generous enough to show them a visual. I stood up and straightened my arms positioned them upwards, asking, “Why do anchovies always die like this?” I snapped my arms to the left, causing the entire table to roar in laughter. Since then, I’ve used this inside joke with my family every time they weren’t in a good mood. I assume that it provided a little bit of relief and humor, seeing an 8-year-old embarrass himself by acting like an anchovy. I feel like this experience is something that you could never understand, no matter how well I explained it unless you were there. At the time, I never realized they were laughing at my silly actions, and not the joke itself. This phase slowly left my mind as I matured and grew out of using that joke. I never felt like it was a good time to use the joke again, for I had simply grown to not care about it anymore. 

Thinking about that vivid memory, I believe that I was drawn to this phase because, during that time, my brother was going through puberty, which led to his mood swings. It stressed my mom a lot, and I felt that I could try to reduce the stress by implementing little bits of humor and relief in her day-to-day life. It honestly impacts me more than I thought such a dumb joke could, helping me remember to try and help the family out in ways that I could work. Now matured and able to see sense, I’m embarrassed yet glad that I went through that phase, another key moment in my life that's shaped me into the person I am today.