“Auntie, this is my girlfriend” he said grinning before adding “She is my wife, Elizabeth.”

The groom’s mother did a double take as did I.

“Girlfriend or wife? Make up your mind!” she said asked whilst we shook hands and he stood at the side embarassed.

“Errr… both. Same thing.”

We attended his friend’s ROM reception last night at Pasir Ris with the rest of his friends.

Congratulations to the lovely couple. The bride is gorgeous and the family is warm as most Eurasian families are.

But it was weird… I mean… marriage at 24 is weird! As Belle put it, it’s like signing your life away.

I figured Ernest isn’t the marrying kind at all. At least his friends are convinced he isn’t. But he caused me to drop my jaws at unexpected times.

While we were preparing for the reception, he was styling his hair and I was fiddling with the necklace, he commented that he will have the wedding reception at his own place too. But I cheekily told him I’d prefer to have it at a poolside. I muttered some numbers for an event like this and we both agreed it was a reasonable price. At the reception, from out of
nowhere, he turned to ask for the cost for inviting additional guests…

After the group asked how the groom, Kurt, proposed, Ernest joked that he wanted to meet up and trade notes before he turned to smile and planted a kiss on me.

During one of those times when we were randomly talking, he mentioned something suspiciously along the lines of having a conversation with his mum, wanting but not being able to afford marriage at the moment, kids and how he can envision me being a grandmother. I didn’t get the full story because there were too many loaded words and I nearly had a heart attack.

And earlier in the afternoon, when I had a sudden spate of paranoia and thought my hormones went crazy again, he got worried and exclaimed “Nothing must happen to you! My son need to come out from there…” while pointing at my tummy.

“Son? Thought you want a daughter instead?”

“Erm… both. One of each.” he said as he smiled sheepishly.

He is getting more serious it seems. And while it’s pleasing to know, I think I’m starting to get freaked out too… Long term contracts are not my cuppa tea. My bad track record can speak for itself.

Nothing lasts for more than 12 months…