"Hello Auntie..."

I so swear, this story I'm gonna tell, is gonna go way down in (my) history.

*****

"Hello auntie! You need umbrella?"


So, it had been raining dogs and more dogs since the fateful phonecall came. But the story now is not about that fateful phonecall.

Anyway, because of the downpour that didn't stop since, Auntie Fatmama found herself lugging (very reluctantly) an umbrella with her as she left her house in the morning. Yes, very unglam an umbrella is, but when you gotta bring it, you gotta bring it.

As fate would decree, the wretched umbrella eventually broke down, resisting the heavy pounding from the (stupid) heavy raindrops. So into the rubbish bin it went, and Auntie Fatmama found herself trudging toward the massage parlor in the cold.

Umbrella-less.

"Hello auntie! You need umbrella?"

Stunned, Auntie Fatmama turned to her left, where the tiny voice emerged.

There he stood, a tiny boy in old crooked glasses, no more than seven or eight years of age, looking at Auntie Fatmama with tiny but earnest eyes, offering his small umbrella in his left hand.

"What the fuck... ?" thought Auntie Fatmama.

But all she could voice in return was: "Er... sorry? What did you want?"

"Oh, it's raining, and I know you don't have an umbrella. You can share with me." And then he flashed the sweetest, most innocent smile ever.

Melting already, despite the unkind weather, Auntie Fatmama beamed, "Oh no need! Thank you very much but no need. I am just walking down to the shop further down... You are very very sweet... How old are you?... What's your name?... Where do you stay?... You are very sweet..."

In no less than one minute, the pair found themselves walking past an "ang ku kueh" shop, apparently a very famous one.

The boy immediately stopped in his tracks, and stopped entertaining Auntie Fatmama's intrusive questions. "Oh Auntie! You must buy the kuehs from this shop. They are very, very nice."

"Huh?!... Oh, I'll go to my shop first, then come back and buy later."

"No!!! You must buy now!"

Auntie Fatmama looked at the boy for a little longer than a moment, figured out the trap she had fallen into, then said with a slightly screwed-up face, "Oh. You want, is it?"

"No lah. No need."

Rolling her eyes very discreetly, Auntie Fatmama pulled the boy into the shop, and emerged quickly after paying for just two ang ku kuehs - both in the boy's hands.

Realizing the shit she had gotten herself into (yet again), she quickened her steps toward the massage parlor. Boy followed in hot pursuit, "Auntie! You need umbrella!"

"No! No need! And I think you should go home now. The rain is not so heavy now."

But alas! The boy in the old crooked glasses wouldn't relent. He followed right behind Auntie Fatmama's heels to the front door of the massage parlor.

Getting a little flustered, yet trying her best to retain the sweet tone, Auntie Fatmama instructed, "Ok, I am here at my shop. Go home now, before your mom starts wondering where you are."

"No. I don't want to go home yet, it's still raining. Can I come in with you, sit there and wait?"

Auntie Fatmama huffed in mild exasperation, and gave up.

The boy went in and created a nuisance of himself in the shop, messing with all the stuff he could possibly lay his hands on.

Before she went in to the room, Auntie Fatmama apologized profusely to the counter-girl for his behavior, adding a last disclaimer: "I don't know him one. Just send him home when I go in. Please."


Fresh from her hour-long massage session, Auntie Fatmama realized. She had just, barely an hour ago, been picked up by a freakin' eleven-year-old in old crooked glasses, conned by his umbrella offer, and parted with her moolah for a couple of ang ku kuehs.


Sigh.

Boy ah boy... you fuckin' had me at "hello...".


*****

See... boys will be boys.

No matter what age they may be, boys will always be boys and give you trouble no less.

When will I ever fuckin' learn?