The doorbell rang.
In my home wear (T-shirt and shorts) with a Winnie the Pooh hairband on my head, I opened the door and a man greeted me. The first thing he asked was “Is your parents home?”
I was stunned. My parents? Hello, this is my home! My marital home!
I didn’t bother to explain (is there a need to?), and asked him what his purpose in knocking on my door was. He mumbled about something “rainbow”. I couldn’t make out what he was saying and asked him to repeat. Then I heard something about a “vacumm cleaner”.
I politely replied that we already have one and was about to close the door when he asked me for the brand we are using. I gave him and his business was done.
When I closed the door, I turned around and saw Stuart standing there, obviously he heard the door bell rang too and came out to check what was happening.
I stood there and told him the guy asked if my parents were at home. We both laughed out real loud. I felt like crying at the same time…
I think it should be an excellent compliment that he mistook me for a teenager, or some young adult still living in the same roof as their parents. Ya, I should. Thank you very much Mr Stranger!
Now, flashback to 18 years ago. When I was really a teenager…
The doorbell rang. Against the constant nagging instruction by my mom not to open doors to strangers, I did just that. I got the same question “Is your parents home?”. I said “No”. But this time, the promoter wasn’t satisfied with that and didn’t end his business there. On hindsight, I guess he was probably more pleased than disappointed that a teenager was home alone then.
To cut the story short, a transaction went on and after he left, I suddenly got frightened that I had done something terribly wrong! I debated whether I should come clean or just leave it till the “thing” was noticed. Of course, I chose the former (hey, I am honest ok!) and straightened myself to face the music. I faced a pretty long one. Maybe that’s why I still remember this lesson till now.
After which, my mom fought with the salesman to nullify the transaction as he sold stuff to an underage, knowing she is one. Sign… Â
Fast forward to 18 years later…
Mr Stranger had conveniently “helped” me recall this incident that I had filed in my history department and almost forgotten its existence till now.
Hopefully 5 years later from now…
The doorbell rings. My child dashes up excitedly to see who is coming to pay us a visit. I follow behind, and the stranger asks “Are your parents at home?”
Ha ha ha! I’m officially demoted as the sister! Hmm… I believe I’ll be truly ecstastic then. 
[tags]childhood dreams, teenager’s confession, history, kloudiia[/tags]
That’s the fate of living in a HDB flat!
You get uninvited “pests” at times…
Hmm…..Does this hint at a baby coming? Or in the plans?
@ Alexis: Well they are doing their job, and having gone through the door-knocking days, I understand how tough it can be. Takes lots of will and determination to comb through all the blocks, you know?
@ Mandy: Hmm… you are thinking too much, and too far haha
Haha, what a beautiful dream for the next five years.