When I was a child, I was always addicted to the snacks sold outside. I got tired of the food my mother made every day because it was plain and monotonous. I complained each time I had a meal at home and never cared about my mother's mood/feelings! What happened later was exactly what I expected. I left my home to pursue an education, then I started to work and got married. I ate out too often and I remember that my mother always called me and asked me not to eat out so often, but I didn't care. Then came the day when I had a terrible stomachache due to eating too much spicy food. Then I began to cook food at home by myself. I felt the love my mother gave us once, because it's very tiring to cook three meals at home every day, but my mother did it every day and never complained to anyone. Later, my stomach got better. When I return to my hometown my mother still cooks the same food I ate in my childhood, but it’s very tasty. Finally, I understand that the food prepared with love is my favorite food!