Personal Note On My Family

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My parents have had quite a number of jobs in their lifetime. My dad, when he was younger, used to work at his family restaurant as the waiter and the kitchen porter, which is someone who is in charge for general cleaning. In high school, he had a countless number of jobs. He was his school’s janitor, a brick maker, a community bus driver, an ice-cream factory worker, a pizza delivery boy, and a car inspector. He is currently a mailman and he has been working as one for seventeen years. My mother was a seamstress when she was a stay-at-home mom and had to nurse me when I was a baby. Now, my mother is a nail technician and a nail salon.
My family and my extended family gather at my grandparent’s house. Since my father’s side of the family, who live in Colorado, considered him to be dead them for marrying my mother, we only visit my mother’s side of the family. They live on a large farm in Vietnam. The house is really old but it still has its own sweet little charm to it. The old building uses to be painted in vibrant eighties colors, such as teal, salmon pink, dark blue and a bit of green, but most of the house is painted with a manila color. It used to have checkerboard tiles covering the all of the floor but it was later replaced with plain, beige ones. The house has a couple of bedrooms, a large kitchen that doubles as the living room and dining room, a large, dusty attic, and lots of dark mahogany furniture. In front of the house,
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