She made Gaven, barely a month old, stand up. Gaven stood for a second before falling, but that one second was enough for my mother to brag.
"See that? My grandson is amazing! He's only a month old and can stand. Whose grandson could be as remarkable as mine?" She glanced around, her eyes filled with unabashed pride.
One honest relative spoke up, "Briley, your grandson may look chubby, but he seems jaundiced. You should keep an eye on him."
This relative, straightforward and well-meaning, expressed her concern openly, hoping to remind my mother.
Other relatives chimed in, "Exactly, his face doesn't look well. It might be a good idea to take him to the hospital."
Hearing this, my mother snapped, "You're the ones who are sick! Your whole family should be living in the hospital!
"Stop talking nonsense. My grandson's got a fortunate look. Have you ever seen a successful person with a face like him?" She pointed at another relative's fair-skinned child and challenged everyone.
"You're all just jealous of my grandson's good looks. Let me tell you, he's one in a million. He might be the president one day.
"But you lot are just a bunch of ignorant peasants. You wouldn't know any better." She waved her hand dismissively, pretending to be magnanimous.
Paisley echoed her, "She's right! My son is the hope of the Wiley family."
The relatives had no choice but to smooth things over. Someone offered a few flattering words, "Yeah, I can see he's well-fed. He looks so chubby!"
"Briley, why not tell us your secrets to raising such a healthy child!"
My mother's face lit up with pride. She glanced disdainfully at Paisley before speaking, "Paisley is weak. She didn't have any milk after giving birth to Gaven, so my grandson was fed with my breast milk, which is why he's so strong!" At that moment, she beamed with even more pride.
Her wrinkled face lifted high as she was waiting for the compliments from others.
But the room fell silent.
Even the person who had asked the question was so shocked by her astonishing reply that she didn't know how to react.
After a while, someone finally replied lightly, "Briley, you really are something!"
Everyone else exchanged awkward glances and stopped talking, focusing on the food instead.
That was how things worked at village banquets. If you clicked with someone, you might chat a little more. If not, you would just follow the motions and leave.