just minishorts.

I've been reduced into a non-existent, third person, talked about 'her' in both my mother's and boyfriend's lexicon. I'm not sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing… well, I suppose you'd could say there's two sides to this. The good news is, the relationship that I wanted to nurture between Eric and my mother is blooming far, far beyond my wildest imaginations. That's a good thing of course.

The bad news is, as a result, I see myself becoming the sacrificial lamb in this blossoming friendship that my mom and Eric now share. AT MY EXPENSE.

'Aunty, the other day your daughter and I went…'
'Eric, your girlfriend loves that perfume you bought her…'
'Aunty you know your daughter sprays it on like there's no tomorrow…'
'Eric, that's because you bought such a huge bottle for her and I believe she thinks she HAS to finish it…'

'I don't! I don't do that!' Imagine me, arms flailing miserably in an attempt to catch their attention. I'm seated at the same table throughout, but apparently, I'm invisible. INVISIBLE!

'Well can you believe what your daughter did to the monkey I gave her? She cut off the stitching!'
'I think that thing you gave to your girlfriend is quite scary.'
'Your daughter lah, she went and cut off the stitchings and now the hood slips in and out…'

'Oi. Look here look here!'

They ignore me. I swear they do. I swear I could disappear to Timbuktoo and they'd still be going, 'your daughter, your girlfriend.'

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