My wife and me gleefully mugging it up, two kids without a care in the world, inside an old photo booth at the Berryessa Flea Market, San Jose, California, June 2007.
I am not his mother. Our standards of hygiene and cleanliness are clearly not aligned and he doesn't care enough to wonder how his stench could impact the people he lives with.
I already struggle with approaching people in my own language, so I have absolutely no idea how I’m supposed to walk up to someone I’d like to be friends with and somehow do that in my third language.