I See. I Like. I Blog.
If you’re a Malay woman, thirty-something and still single, my advice to you is: never ever attend a wedding with your aunty/grand-aunt/your grand aunty’s best friend.
Not unless you’re prepared to answer the ultimate question: So, my dear, when’s your turn?
I get that a lot when I was that age. It is the single most hateful question anyone could ever ask me. And the one that has got me tongue-tied every time!
The first time I got cornered, was the worst. I wasn’t prepared for it, and ended up sounding like a blundering twit. I remember giving them a long, elaborated master thesis about the meaning of true love/finding your soul mate – you know, the whole B-S. They didn’t buy it of course. Some even took it as an insult that I would dare ‘lecture’ them about love. You don’t need ‘love’, that can come later, you need to bear children Now, before it’s too late!
I then switched tactics, going for the short and sweet white lie — “Soon, dear Aunty”. That, too, apparently, wasn’t good enough: in fact, that got them even more agitated, resorting to threats of a match-make with some neighbor’s husband’s cousin’s sister-in-law’s recently-widowed uncle. The vultures.
I stayed away from family weddings for a long time after that.
It took me awhile to figure this one out, but now I have what I truly believe to be the the perfect answer to shut them up permanently, one which I would like to share for the benefit of all my ‘single sisters’ out there —
The next time you see the old prune at a funeral, don’t walk away, instead, go up to her and whisper gently in her good ear:
“So, my dear Aunty, when’s your turn?”