Nathan was practicing walking in the hallway of the basement accompanied by his overjoyed mother, Sylvia. He was holding two makeshift walking sticks with his two hands and already making a progress in just three days.
"Son, I think after one week, you can finally walk on your two feet without the aid of the walking stick," Sylvia said excitedly.
Nathan grinned. "I hope so, Mother," he said, his voice filled with optimism.
"Do you want to eat fried chicken again for lunch?" Sylvia asked. "I will inform the cook to prepare them for you," she offered.
Nathan shook his head. "No more fried chicken for today, Mother!"
"How about another dish? Hmm... roasted pork... pork belly... roasted above the fire? Do you like to eat that kind of dish?" she suggested.
Nathan grinned. "That sounds better, Mom. Tell the cook to make it spicy," he said.
"Sure! Anything else you want to eat today?" she asked.
