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Nothing could sour my mood, though, because I’m not even in this car. There’s also the matter of that maybe hangover.

Margot is already in a semi-sour mood because she had to wake up at the crack of dawn to get home from her friend’s cabin in time. In the car Kitty keeps saying “I hate New Year’s Day,” and it puts everyone but me in a sour mood. “All of the other cousins will be wearing them, and it will make Grandma happy,” Daddy says, rubbing his temples. The real truth is, Kitty hates wearing a hanbok because you have to walk delicately in it and hold the skirt closed with one hand or the whole thing comes open. “My skirt’s too short too,” she grumps, lifting the bottom. I had to watch a YouTube video multiple times to figure it out, and it still looks lopsided and sad. The bow is the hardest thing to get right. “It’s not our fault you grow like a weed,” I say, fussing with my bow. Unlike Kitty’s, which hits right at her ankles. The skirt is voluminous, full like a bell, and it falls all the way to the floor. Mine is hot pink with an ivory-white jacket and a long hot-pink bow with flowers embroidered down the front. Margot’s hanbok has a yellow jacket and apple-green skirt. Our grandma bought the hanboks for us the last time she was in Korea. Unconvincingly Daddy says, “They’re supposed to be that way.” “Look at the sleeves! They’re three-quarter length on me!”

And me? I’ve got hearts in my eyes and a letter that’s burning a hole in my coat pocket.Īs we’re putting on our shoes, Kitty’s still trying to weasel her way out of wearing a hanbok to Aunt Carrie and Uncle Victor’s. KITTY’S BEEN A LITTLE COMPLAINER all morning, and I suspect both Margot and Daddy are suffering from New Year’s Eve hangovers.