Nostalgia
On this Saturday morning, you woke up with swollen eyes. Because the night before, the cow your father bought had somehow got loose and the women had screamed at the men to go after the loosened cow. Apparently, at the age of eight, you were one of the men. While you struggled to find your feet in the room where the kids had slept, you traced the nice aroma of fried meat and you are sure that the cow that gave you troubles was long dead by now. The community women who assumed the work of caterer