At the sight of Hello Kitty Island, I can't help but smile. The excitement is bubbing up and I want to make a run for the door. However, considering I have a baby and I'm with someone else, I rein in my excitement.  He finds a parking spot and I start the process of shaking the stroller open and then getting Grace out of her car seat as gently as possible to keep her asleep.  I fail.  Despite my efforts, she wakes up, crying loudly.  I don’t blame her; I would be cranky if someone woke me up too. Instead of putting her in the stroller I hold her close to my shoulder and bounce gently whispering “shhhhh” while patting her back feeling thankful that we are outside.  It takes a solid two minutes to coax her into stopping her crying. I feel a bit embarrassed, but what can I do? She's just a baby.

 Min Jun remains silent, his expression more one of sympathy than judgment. Between hushing sounds, I mouth an apologetic “sorry,” to which he nods understandingly, patiently awaiting our readiness.

Once Grace settles down, and I manage to place her in the stroller. Min Jun hands me the diaper bag, which I shove into the stroller's undercarriage compartment. Since she had a bottle right before we left, I suspect she'll need a change soon. It's time to go in—yay! As I begin to push the stroller, Min Jun, like yesterday, maneuvers in a way that allows him to gently take over the pushing. "I bet you'd prefer to have your hands free to enjoy the attraction. I'm happy to push," he says.

We get to the ticket booth and before I can even reach for my wallet, he's already taking care of the admission fee. A bit surprised, “You didn't have to do that. You drove us here; I was more than happy to cover the cost.” However, he dismisses my concerns with a casual wave of his hand.

"Umm, thank you. I will definitely treat you to something tasty later," I promise in response to his gesture. I am giddy; this place is so cool and so pink! It's totally my jam. "I think I should change Grace's diaper before we start," I suggest, and we head towards the restroom.

After the quick diaper change, we follow the path around the "island." "So, have you been here before?" I ask.

"No, but I was looking up baby-friendly activities and this was the first thing on the list," he replies while pushing the stroller.

"Well, I'm glad. It's just so cute," my words spill out in awe as my gaze takes in the adorable surroundings, including a full -ize façade of a Hello Kitty theme house. “I could easily spend hours here, we should set a timer,” I joke. Granted the place isn't that big; I'm sure we'll finish in about an hour.

"So, you mentioned being in Seattle as an architect. Are you working as an architect here too? You mentioned that you had to return to the office yesterday."

"Yeah, I spent about 20 years in Seattle. Loved living in the US, after I met my ex wife, I thought I would be there permanently. It was pretty great for a while. The US is just so big, you can have totally different experiences by driving a few hours. There's a certain allure to the vastness of the US; the melting pot of cultures, the food, everything.  Granted, not everything was perfect, but I still really liked it there.  But in the end, it wasn't Korea. There's something unique about home, right?  I’m sure you will miss the States now that you are here. Anyway, after my divorce, aside from my job and friends, there wasn't much keeping me there. It seemed like the perfect time to move back. And when my parents decided to retire here as well, I saw it as an opportunity to start fresh, especially since I wouldn’t run into old friends, which meant I didn’t have to talk about why I moved back.  It just felt like the right move. And once I got here, I was able to establish my own architecture firm. Now, I enjoy the freedom of being my own boss and setting my schedule," he shared, his voice tinged with a newfound enthusiasm and relief.

Attempting to delve a little deeper without prying too much, I ask, “So why the US?”

“Well, to be honest, I wasn’t a top student so I wasn’t going to get into Harvard.  And I heard Seattle was cool and U Dub wasn’t super hard to get into.” He says shaking his head. “I knew making it to Harvard was a stretch. I had heard great things about Seattle, and the University of Washington seemed like a school I could get into," he says, shaking his head. “I knew I wanted to go to school in the US to practice my English and when I got accepted, I went. My parents were disappointed that I didn’t get into Harvard, but happy to tell everyone that I  was going to school abroad.”

“1. Your English is AMAZINg and 2. Was a big deal back then going abroad for school?” I ask to keep the conversation going while as I fight the almost irresistible urge to touch the exhibits.

"Thanks, I did live in the US for 20 years so I had time to practice," he responds, sensing my urge to touch the displays. "and yes, in the 90s, going abroad was a big deal. Korea back then is not the Korea now. Sending me to the US was big financial stretch for my family.  It required my parents and grandparents to pool their savings just to prove we could afford my tuition, which we barely could. I wasn’t the 'crazy rich Asian' stereotype, I was more of a 'crazy poor Asian.'  I tried my best to save my parents money, even enduring weeks of just ramyeon, hot dogs, and eggs. Luckily, a local restaurant owner took pity on me and offered me a part-time job, paying me under the table, as I wasn't technically allowed to work being an international student. It allowed me to pay for almost everything outside of tuition, Seattle was a lot cheaper in the 90s, I hustled so I wouldn’t be such a burden on my family.   It’s one of the reasons I felt liked I needed to move back, I wanted to give back to my parents, since they sacrificed so much for me," he shares, his voice tinged with a mix of nostalgia and gratitude.

I stop looking around and turn to face him, offering a smile. I wasn’t expecting such an honest and heartfelt response.  “Your parents are lucky to have you, you seem like a great son.” I say while momentarily letting my hand rest on his arm. Realizing the potential faux pas, I withdraw my hand quickly, mindful of the more reserved nature of Korean culture. "Oh, I'm sorry, that was very American of me,"  I say quickly.  Feeling slightly embarrassed by a gesture that wouldn't even be considered overly affectionate in America, I turn away from him and immerse myself in the sight of even more Hello Kitty items, my fingers itching to touch. "They really make it tempting to touch these displays, don't they?" I joke, trying to quicky change the mood.