dealing with THE QUEEN of ALL Drama Queens

obediently in an even tone, I replied: ‘ok grandma. I will tell mom that’
My respond is sure to stunt anyone who has just put on a hissy fit the size that only Elton John is capable off (or so you thought).
one week ago
Madame Fussy Pot (a.k.a THE QUEEN of ALL Drama Queen a.k.a Grandma) decides to vacate her abode for another. It pisses me off because she’s a nyonya pushing mid-80s, who’s only anatomy that still works in overdrive mode is her wagging tongue! 
I hate moving. I don’t get moving. Why do people need to move?
I hate it more when other people moves and I somehow am roped-in.
I refuse to bow and treat every piece of embroidered kebaya to the intricacy of a spider’s web, stiff  over starched sarong that seems to stand erect on its own, and keronsang of all flora and fauna imaginable, like a museum artifact. Every pottery she owns like a Ming ware…
See, if I am indentured against all will to help her move into another dwelling and whip it into shape before the Chinese New Year primarily because – as if it’s not insulting enough in the eyes of elderly ladies – I am the only single-status grand child who lives nearby, well, I damn do it my way!
i.e. scrunch the kebayas and sarongs into a ball with the keronsangs and pottery in between, then dump them into carton boxes or the various dragon tempayans she has. And please God, please, explain to me why the heck do I need to get a lorry to move the now permanently traveling tempayans? Anyways, once I am done with the dump job, ahhh well, I then hope the creases will un-crease when the garments are hung up and everything else arrives in better shape than the South China Sea treasures.
But silly me forgot the earplugs.
Consequently, every piece were lined neatly into boxes and the fragile items were wrapped with bubble wraps and loads of tape (thereby killing the environment) for a zero-point-eight kilometres journey. Yup. You read right. 0.8 km!
The abandoned house was of course … abandoned. In a state of dismay.
Almost every blade of grass on the 0.5 acre land stood taller, stronger and prouder than Madame Fussy Pot. Windows and doors creaked in protest as would her old arthritic bones when she alights the stairs. Nevertheless I spent my precious long weekend break accomplishing what I was sent for.
Today – evening
‘I hate my new house. It’s not a home. I hate it! I hate it! I hate it!’, Madame Fussy Pot’s voice wailed away.
‘Why? What do you hate?’ I inquired, frankly out of habit rather than genuine concern, only to regret I asked the questions the moment it came out of my mouth. Note to self in future: concentrate when Madame Fussy Pot calls. No multi-tasking. Ever.
‘Nobody is here. It’s too big. Nobody visits me. The shops are too far ….,’ 
Interesting how when things seems to be an exaggerated bigger size when one is a child and when one is old. hmmm…
anyways, she goes on and on and on … and suddenly I was shaken out of a stupor when I heard her say this repeatedly: ‘If you don’t take me out of here, I swear I will be mad.’
‘O.K.’ I replied. 
{excuse me. gimme a break – what else do you say?}
… and her wailing continues, ‘Tell your mother I am going mad. I will commit suicide.’
And that’s when I replied: ‘ok grandma. I will tell mom that’
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Dramatics run thick in our veins.
THE QUEEN of ALL Drama Queen Madame Fussy Pot must have forgotten her ginkgo biloba. I am after all an off spring of hers. Being a Drama Princess myself, if you like, I sure know how to handle a Drama Queen’s hissy fit.
Note to self: Buy chocolates. Swing by tomorrow after work. Ear plugs. The discrete type.
Oh well, whatever it takes so long as I don’t need to goddamn moonlight as a mover again. The worse thing that can happen is her insisting I move her back to her first abode a day before Chinese New Year!


P/S: By the way, I betcha the word cerewet was invented specifically to describe the nyonyas and babas.



5 thoughts on “dealing with THE QUEEN of ALL Drama Queens

  1. Chocolates never delivered. Val sent her a hamper on behalf. I was working late – as usual.Nope. She stayed put. I guess all of us showed how irritated we were and wore a pensive expression all the time around her.

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