"Csokolom nagyapa*," I greet my granpa sitting at the table.

"Hey!" He uses slang and welcomes me with open arms. "We have stuffed cabbage."

"Sausage, too?" I smile wide open.

He blinks at me and goes to the stove.

I'm hearing loud steps.

"Granny!" My eyes land on a seventy-year-old lady with rich grey hair tied in the bun.

"How are you?" I utter and blow my nose so my grandfather doesn't yell at me. He hates the sound of a sniffle.

"Is there any guy?" She looks at me behind the thick purple-eyeglasses.

"Grandma," I put a mixture of rice and meat in my mouth and take a piece of soft bread with a crunchy crust.

I close my eyes with pleasure.

The taste of green pepper, sweet tomato, sausage and the subtle undertones of black pepper begin to dance on my tongue.

Granny throws her beautiful eyes at me and asks again about my situation with a dude.

I have no heart to tell her that a girl like me is not very in the interest of other guys.

* Hungarian. Kissing hands, grandfather