I was 24, and sprinting across the playground to my cousin’s place, when I heard the words that made me turn around in slow-mo.
“Auntie, pass the ball !”
Auntie? Who Me? Noooo !
I kicked their dratted ball right even further away, right over the wall, and ran to the mirror.
No grey hairs, butt’s in shape, or is it? … Auntie? Reallllly ?! I decided to start kickboxing classes immediately. (kick-butt-boxing classes – multiple puns intended).
My husband, before he became my husband, that is, got his first ‘uncle’ when he was a bachelor on his first job. At a dinner at his boss’ house, the boss’ pretty young 18-year-old pranced in…and S got his hopes a-soaring.
The Boss then introduced them “This is Manya. Manya, say Hello to this UNCLE.”
One day, you’re a nose-ringed, dirty-jeaned rebellious teen, and the next day, you’re the one being rebelled against. It’s a fine line…the next fine line’s called a wrinkle.
Learning : Years later, when my first-born first called me “Mama”, I yahoooed with joy. Why do I love being called Mama, but break into red spots at ‘Auntie’?