Parents. Such a fantastic breed they are, as long as they're not yours.
Talking to my parents is like bullshitting to my former boss and clients - even if nothing is happening (or progressing), I still have to come up with some sort of answer to satisfy everyone.
It is simply ironic that when it comes to my peeps' parents, I'm totally at ease, enjoying their company and wondering why is my friend so uptight while her mother fries my favourite cantonese-style meehoon. But why is that, that when its the other way around, I just can't wait for my parents to finish their meals and stop talking, period?
Gosh, I can never understand how their mind works, that is, maybe....until one fine day (only by God's power), I have brats of my own..
*shrug*
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