You wake up a little later than normal. You’re not washing your hair today, after all. It’s one of the few days out of the year you don’t wash you hair. In fact, it’s the only day you’re actually not supposed to.

You don’t bother to make your bed, either — not that you make your bed on any other day because you’re pretty lazy. But, for the same reason you aren’t washing your hair, today is the one day you’re actually not supposed to clean. Just like your parents had explained to you long ago, you don’t want to wash or clean away all your good luck. You’re young. And, you don’t know it, yet, but you’re going to need all the luck you can get.

Despite your later start to the morning, or possibly because of it, you are primed for the day. It’s cold and gloomy outside on this late-January to early-February day, but here, inside the house, it’s warm, and the savory aromas from last night’s dinner still linger in the air.

Your feet want to make a run for the kitchen, but, like the good daughter they raised you to be, you go to your parents’ room instead.

Your sister joins you.

“Gung Hay Fat Choy!!”

You don’t know it, yet, but eventually, that will be one of the only phrases you remember how to say in Chinese. You will regret this. You will try to reteach yourself Cantonese in your twenties, but it will be harder the older and, inevitably, dumber you get.

“Gung Hay Fat Choy! LAI SEE DOU LOI!”

You’re both young, so it’s still cute. You’re both dorky, too, so it’s still funny. But, if you’re older than ten, you probably don’t want to rudely demand that red envelope.

Your parents greet you with big smiles. They wish you health, happiness, and prosperity. They tell you you’re their beautiful, smart, wonderful daughter. Your smile widens, your ears ring, your heart swells with the praise. You’re only going to hear more of that from their mouths today. You don’t know it, yet, but you’re only going to hear more of that from their mouths forever.

Still, specifically today, no negative words will be spoken. Today, you can do no wrong.

Together, you all race to the kitchen and pick out which sweet to eat first. Yes, you heard right. And yes, it’s still morning. You don’t know it, yet, but you do not eat candy for breakfast “when you grow up,” despite your childish proclamations. Today, however, you do. Because it’s important to start your day, your year with something sweet.

It’s too bad, then, that you still have school — because, like other non-Christian holidays, your school doesn’t observe Chinese New Year. No matter, you think. You are proud of your culture. You love showing off your traditions to your classmates, and you still have that belief that others are genuinely interested. You’ll naively hold onto that belief for too long. Hold onto it and believe it, though, for as long as possible. Because, you don’t know it, yet, but years from now, one of your classmates will call you a chink. You won’t know what it means. But, you will begin to realize that some people are not, in fact, interested in your culture at all.

You pack your schoolbag. Homework? Check. Lunch? Check. Traditional Chinese doll for show-and-tell? Check. Candies to hand out? Or at least the ones you haven’t eaten yet? Check. Wait, double check. Ok, check. You try to contain your excitement.

It’s like any other day at school, so your classmates would believe. But, you know better than that. Today is the start of the Lunar New Year. Today, you honor your ancestors. Today is a day for happiness, good fortune, longevity, and wealth.

But, today is also moving at a snail’s pace. You can’t even concentrate on your favorite subject, Math. You don’t know it, yet, but once you’re at college, despite excelling at it all throughout middle and high school, you will neglect to take any Math courses until your junior year. Unfortunately, by then, you will have forgotten almost everything, except for maybe the quadratic formula and Pythagorean’s Theorem. You will consequently be forced to drop out of the class, and you decide to take up writing instead.

And so, perhaps prophetically, you rejoice the end of Math, and it is finally time for show-and-tell. Your class gathers around in a circle, and you stand tall at the center. You take out your traditional Chinese doll. The doll is petite, swathed in a pink qipao, her hair pulled up in a bun, her lips a bright red pout. She’s beautiful. You don’t know it, yet, but that doll will be one of the only Asian role models/beauty standards you encounter as you grow up in America. Your own mother, Lucy Liu, Michelle Yeoh, and “that other Asian actress” will round out that list.

Once show-and-tell is over, your teacher places your doll on the shelf, out of the way, until it’s time to go home. You don’t know it, yet, but you will accidentally forget to take the doll home with you, and it will disappear from that shelf the very next day. You never find out what happened to it, and you never see it again. You will also never stop feeling guilty about losing that beloved doll.

But, those feelings of guilt won’t come to you until tomorrow. In the meantime, you are oblivious and happily ignorant. You hand out your lucky candy to your classmates. They immediately gobble up the sweet strawberry flavor, felicitously gobbling up the good luck that comes with it.

Finally, school is over. Your sister meets you on the bus, and the two of you quietly ride home. You didn’t know it then, but a couple of years back, your sister was bullied on the bus. Some older boys had made fun of her lunchbox and her slanted eyes. She now tries to protect you from being bullied yourself. Your family will never stop being there for you. You love them very much.

Your parents both work, so you and your sister have the house to yourselves after school. You do your homework while you watch cartoons on Nick Jr. (eventually, Nick Jr. will be replaced by the Disney afternoon cartoons). Your parents don’t allow TV until homework is finished, but you and your sister watch it anyway. You don’t know it, yet, but your dad will eventually catch on when he sees that the channel is always set to UPN. You will get in trouble, but don’t worry. Your sister and you will discover the “previous channel” button so that you can quickly re-set the TV to whatever network your parents were watching the night before. You will always be trying to outsmart your parents. You never will.

But, you don’t know that, yet, so you and your sister gleefully enjoy your afternoon shows. By the time your parents get home, you have both finished your homework because you are good girls. You don’t know it, yet, but you will be a good girl until college. That’s when your rebellious stage will kick in, and you will fight with your mother. A lot. Make sure you apologize to her later. Your mother just loves you, and you need to appreciate her more.

Like by helping her cook. Which, you do. Today, you prepare a simple meal, though, unlike the feast from last night. Traditionally, you enjoy your big meal on New Year’s Eve, which is kind of like a Chinese Thanksgiving. Instead of turkey, though, the star is good fortune.

Every year, your parents serve lucky foods — “lucky” because of how they sound and what they symbolize. Like, for example, a whole fish, which, in Chinese, is a homonym for plentiful. And chicken, because back in the day, chicken was not cheap — so, to celebrate the holiday, families wanted to serve something valuable to start off the year. Also, noodles, because long noodles represent long life and good health.

You ate all of that good fortune and more last night. In fact, you are still kind of full. But, of course, you think you always have room for dessert. You don’t know it, yet, but many years from now, you will learn you don’t always, nor should you always, have room for dessert. You will learn it the hard way after attending an all-you-can-eat sushi buffet and making the unfortunate decision of going out for ice cream afterwards.

But today, with your growing appetite and love for sweets, you still have room. Plus, it’s necessary to kick off the New Year with sweetness, after all.

At last, sleepily, you climb into bed. Chinese New Year has come to an end (day one, at least, out of the traditional fifteen-day celebration). As you lie there happy, healthy, loved, and full, you reflect on what wonders the future could possibly hold. Because, well, you don’t know it, yet.