Auntie-killer

[Saturday, 13 May, 2006]

In evening, when I was taking the lift down to set off to Vivi’s house, an auntie from 8th or 12th storey boarded the lift. I was quite embarrassed to occupy half the small lift with my bicycle and we exchanged smiles.

Suddenly, she started asking, “You’re the whose son right?”

“Yea.. 16th storey one.”

“You’re the youngest son right?”

“No no, I’m the middle one.”

“Really ah? You look like the youngest one.”

Then, I started to report our job statuses and at the same time she kept praising my brothers and I like as if we could win the manhunt champion. She kept insisting until I became more embarrassed.

She was not the first neighbour singing so big praise to me because many aunties tried that as well. However, I would rather young girls to do that instead of all the aunties; thus, I supposed they were just being kind since no young girl thought alike.

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