I had visions of owning a thriving chain of jiaozi shops. I was gonna call my enterprise "Petunia's Jiaozi".
But quite inexplicably, the jiaozi grew in the water. They doubled in size and ended up looking rather large again. The skins too didn't stay thin. Oh good grief! How does one make jiaozi with delicate skins? They're supposed to look sweet and demure, smiling their dimples at our chomping teeth. Instead, they looked like fat nannies with over-sized breasts sprawled with vulgar invitation all over the plate. Even our teeth stopped in mid-chomp, and tried to jump out of our mouths in sheer terror.
I made so many of these vulgar nannies that we had enough for three meals. By the 3rd meal, the vulgar nannies had coalesced into a sodden mass of dough and meat. I had to pick up that many headed Hydra of a dumpling with both hands and it made a heavy splash as it fell screaming into the boiling water.
When it came out (double its size) we had to use a sharp knife to carve up its remains so that each of us would have our fair share. For some reason, everyone felt generous that day, offering each other the larger portions.
Little Boy with a little voice said, "Can we don't have dumplings anymore?" The Husband said looking sideways at me "Wah lau... good thing we don't have guests today!" The Daughter said "The filling is nice" but she was sure she couldn't finish her own portion.
But then... the filling WAS good.