The begining

 It was a normal Wednesday night, my dad, mom, baby sister and I were on our way to the chalet. My baby sister, Murjana, was sleeping peacefully in my mothers arm, my dad was listening to 3awath al do5i and I was engrossed in a book.

"Yumma, Maida 9ikay ketabich mo zain tegrain bel thalma." My mom said breaking the silence. 

"Enzain mama bas hal 9af7a wa9ika!" I said. 

"Ya baba," my father said sharply. "omich tabech eb salfa." 

I reluctantly shut my book and sat up straight my thoughts still with the characters. 

My mom adjusted Murjana in her arms and said, "fee wa7id 5an6bich oo--" 

I rolled my eyes,  immediately  laid back and opened my book. "Mama cham mara agolich mabi atizawaj al7een!" 

"Wentay 3ala awiliiich tgoleen mabi!" my mom snapped. "La testa3yilain bel qarar!"

"Mama ana al7en ma afakir bel zawaj ! hatha eltizaam ! wana male 5ilg!" I huffed back, bored with repeating myself everytime this subject came up. 

"a9lan ana laman kent kobrich kent 7amil eb o5och Nagroor!" 

"El wagt ta'3ayar," I retorted back. 

"Oo shno ya3ne ana men qoroon el oowlaa !" she said angrily. 

I opened my mouth ready to retort when my dad cut me short.  "Om Nagroor, haday nafsich. Wentay maido ! sem3ay kalam omich. e7na ma '3a9abnach wala ra7 en'3a9bich 3al zawaj. Bas e7na nabelich el 5air. 3a6ay el rayal for9a wen ma ba'3ayteeh ma y9eer 5a6rich ela 6ayib." 

My face flushed with embarrassment and I listened quietly as my mom started to give me a brief history about this guy. 

"Esma Hamoor Al Flani," she said. "Nas ma3rofeen eb a5laghum o eb deenhum oo omaa th.haaba!" 

"Ana ba5tha wela ba5ith oma," I mumbled under my brreath. My mom who thankfully didn't hear me kept rambling on, but my dad gave me a look from the rear mirror. I shut my mouth instantly and looked away. 

"Ohwa yeshtiqil bel sharika el flaniya .. Oo ma3ana 3omra 27 we9al man9ib mashala 3alaih. Rayaal emkawin nafsa o yenshad el thahar feeh." 

"Ee walla wen3im fehum," my dad said approvingly. 

"shrayich entay ta5theena," I snickered. 

"9ij enich 7mara," my mom said as she threw the tissue box at me. I quickly ducked still snickering. 

"3al3omoom," my dad said trying to keep a serious tone. "e7na eb nes2al 3ana akthar. entay este5eeray oo fakray bel mawtho3." 

"enshalaa," I said, glad that the conversation was over... for now.

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