Chapter 2The Receipt Reel: How I Destroyed My Daughter’s Victim Narrative

The chat immediately started empathizing.

[I get it. Once I broke a bowl and my dad nearly broke my arm.] [Don't cry over spilled milk. I wish parents understood this.]

I thought Chloe sounded like a braying donkey with her crying. I dug a finger in my ear, then moved the mouse to navigate to that specific page.

The slide was dense with text recording the event.

Date: February 9, 1997. Lunar New Year, Day 3. Visiting Grandma.

Entry: The child insisted on jumping up and down on the wooden cover of the outhouse cesspit. She fell into the shit. She ruined her new clothes, but seeing as she had already swallowed a few mouthfuls of sewage and was crying hysterically, I held back my temper.

The chat filled with "Hahahaha." I glanced at my daughter's face.

Veins popped on Chloe’s forehead. She slammed her fist on the sofa. "Don't change the subject! Why did you slap me in front of everyone later?"

[Almost got distracted by the mom. She's posting her daughter's embarrassing moments just to whitewash herself, right?] [Is it just me, or is this terrifying? Socially executing your daughter with childhood stories.] [Honestly, my heart aches for the streamer. Parents never empathize. No wonder Asian households produce so much depression.]

I sighed helplessly and scrolled to the next slide.

The text read clearly: We told Chloe to light incense for her late Grandfather. She held the incense and asked why Grandpa had turned into a jar. She asked if Grandpa learned the art of 'Bone Shrinking Kung Fu'.

We laughed through tears at her innocent words and didn't think much of it. Later, while we were eating, we heard a loud crash.

Chloe had smashed my father's urn. A gust of wind blew through the open door, and my father drifted away in the breeze. He was literally scattered to the winds. She said she 'wanted to see how Grandpa fit inside.' My mother passed out cold on the spot. I walked over and slapped her twice. Damn kid.

The chat moved beyond "Hahahaha."

[Sis... the fact that you're still alive is proof of a mother's love.] [Just a slap? I would have been beaten to death.]

Seeing the tide turning against her, Chloe started wailing. "Were you not at fault too? You guys just brushed me off! You didn't explain it clearly! I was so little, I didn't know what death meant!"

The chat, fickle as grass in the wind, swayed back to her.

[True, the adults share responsibility. Kids are just curious.]

"Fine! Breaking the urn was my fault! But what about the next year? I was helping Uncle chop firewood, and you beat me again! Just because I was the older sister and didn't let my cousin play with the axe?"

The chat empathized again.

[As an older sister, I was always told to yield to my brother. But I was a kid too!] [Why can't parents ever protect their own children?]

I looked at the chat, speechless, then turned to my daughter. "Are you sure you want me to say it?"