How is it November already?! Soon, I might be 54 without even knowing it. Which brings me to what I want to say. I was helping out at my colleague’s event on Friday and there were a couple of middle-aged women who were ermmm.. Fairly eccentric. They talked about the most random of things which made no sense. I concluded that they were lonely, old women.
So I came home and told my older sister A about it and I swear I didn’t make any of the following conversation up.
Me: “Omg zeh (dialect for older sister), you must make sure to call me everyday when we’re old and lonely ok? Otherwise we might end up weird like them.”
A: “I don’t want to. Who asked you to not allow my son to blow out your child’s birthday cake? I won’t want to talk to you.”
Me: “What the hell?! It’s MY child’s birthday! Your kid can blow out his candle at his own party. Don’t be unreasonable!”
Just to set the record straight, neither of us have children, are going to have some soon, or even plan to have any in the future. We sometimes just make up scenarios to see who can annoy each other more, like upstaging the bride whoever gets hitched first and ruining each other’s nonexistent children’s birthdays.
A: “If you don’t want to be lonely in future, then you must allow my child to open your kid’s present from me too.”
Me: “But it’s a present for my child! Your kid can open his own when it’s his turn. This is so ridiculous.”
By now, even though it’s a fictitious scenario, we are really into it with real emotions involved.
A: *ignoring my previous statement* “And when my kid sees the present I bought, he will whine that he wants it for himself.”
Me: “No. Don’t tell me. I bet you’re going to tell my child to give it up to your unruly child.”
A: “Yes! I will say, Darren, be a good boy and give the present to kor kor (dialect for elder brother, can be used in any context as a term of respect for an elder relative of similar age or ranks) first, da yi (eldest auntie because my sister is oldest amongst us four) will buy another one for you ok?”
Me: *long pause* “Did you… Did you just call my future (and non-existent) child, Darren?!?!”
A: “Hahahaha yes. I think Darren is a really suitable name for your kid.”
Me: “What the hell?! I don’t even like the name Darren. Now you won’t even let me name my own child?!”
And these are the type of conversations we have on a regular basis in our home. Madness indeed runs in our blood.