Monday, February 25, 2008

auntie

2 months into 2008.

I am, once again, bowled over by the fact that time flies. Like a rocket. 5 more of these '2 months' and we will soon be bidding adieu to 2008. Brrr. Scary.

Wasn't it just yesterday that I was lamenting my entry into auntie-hood when I declared that my new year’s eve will be spent in a hushed manner – no plans, just couching it out in front of the tele.

What did you get up to in the last 2 months?

Me? I'm officially an auntie.

Yes, today I will be speaking on the dreaded auntie-dom.

Case 1.

I came home one sunny evening and decided that a few laps at the pool downstairs would do me good. I bundled up my hair haphazardly, put an oversized and faded tee over my swimwear and anticipated the feel good factor of splashing about in cool water.

Much to my dismay, I found 3 pimple-infested boys in the pool. Their white shirts and moss green trousers tossed on the floor nearby and they were throwing a coconut husk about like a piece of Frisbee.

Then I heard it. Amidst their giggles and hushed whispers, I heard it loud and clear.

"Careful, don't throw at the auntie!" said Fat Pimple Face in Cantonese.

Beaten and defeated, I lowered myself into the water, did my laps and left soon after.

Case 2.

It was well past the 1am on a Friday night when I got the SMS from an old university mate asking about some 'current' issues (that's story for another day). After a few messages exchanged back and forth, Ken told me that he's at the Atrium, and for me to join him if I wanted to.

I stated the obvious – it being late, and that I'm getting ready for bed.

He replied with "Good night Auntie Loo!"

That night, I had a nightmare about a battalion of aunties; all clad in their batik baggy housecoats, running after me around the Taman.

And then of course, there's the odd couple of times where mothers will refer to me as 'auntie' to their children when I bump into them in elevators, at the supermarket cashier, etc.

Yes, I admit I'm no longer the nubile 18 years old. But fuck that man. I'm 27 years old, and I think I still look damn cute. And in no way am I gonna accept being labelled an 'auntie'.




I mean, look at me.

Auntie?

Damn you people.


Posted by Doreen at 9:49 pm