(After this post I hope I still have a room to live in tomorrow. Sorry in advance, parents, for any breach of confidentiality)
At the risk of having the rest of the world mistake me for being an insincere, calculative worm, I will detail a conversation I had with my brother not too long ago.
'Loong, if you should find yourself on a movie date with a girl you like, what is the most important item you could bring along?'
'Err... err... tissue paper?'
I frowned. There was much work for me ahead.
'No. The most important thing... is this.' With a flourish, I pulled out a sweater I had earlier prepared.
The reasoning is very simple, I explained. By social convention, girls have a carrying capacity of about 1.2 kg for any outing. That's enough for a small water bottle, a handphone, a mirror, and a book or makeup (depending on the girl). There's definitely no space for a sweater.
And because the major cinema chains in Singapore understand that the colder you are, the more you want to eat popcorn or nachos or whatever else they sell at the counter, every cinema hall is capable of storing a freshly slaughtered pig for up to a week. Therefore, it is a given that your date would be cold during the movie.
And if you really like her, I said, you would have already considered her welfare long before the movie. By bringing her a little sweater, you show her that you have paid especial attention to her well-being. In effect, she would be warmed by both your sweater and your thoughtful little action.
'So, the warmer the sweater, the better?'
I frowned again.
'No. You might as well stuff a sheep in your bag and give it to her when she says she's cold.'
Of course, the conversation went on further than that, as I continued my spiel on how to tell when she needed it, and how to pass it to her. But that's not the point of this post.
Fast forward some 20 years of wedded bliss. During a particularly long car ride the other day, my mum had nodded off in the front passenger seat. After a brief spell of rain, she awoke shivering, and softly voiced her discomfort to my dad.
'Dear, it's so cold in here.'
Without skipping a single beat, my dad turned the aircon up to full blast.
Yes, it was mean. Yes, it was also damn funny, the way my mum screamed. But yes, that's also what marraige does to you.
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