Somewhere along the way, I became a mother-in-law.
Then a grandmother.
And before I knew it, I was doing exactly what my own mother used to do.
One day my son said,
“Mom, your kimchi is the best.”
And just like that—my pride softened.
So here I am, packing kimchi into a ziplock bag, wrapping it in layers of plastic like a top-secret artifact, and standing at the airport like a woman on a quiet mission.
🍱 Operation Kimchi: Activated at the Airport
I strategically placed myself first in the boarding line.
Why?
So I could enter early, slide the bag of destiny under my seat,
and sit calmly…
as if absolutely nothing suspicious was hiding inside my carry-on.
But the moment I sat down,
I smelled it.
Kimchi.
Not loud, but assertive.
Not rude, but unmistakably alive.
Inside, I whispered:
“Plane… please take off quickly…”
Then passengers started filling in.
And with people came smells.
A swirl of sweat, perfume, deodorant,
clothes that probably needed one more spin in the washing machine…
And among all those scents,
my little kimchi aroma
began to blend in.
That’s when it hit me:
“Ah… my kimchi is innocent now.”
“For the first time ever,
I thanked the universe for the perfume of humanity—
strong enough to save my kimchi.”
glorialeeart.blog 
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