Grandparents

     
Inspired by actual events, haha. ILY grandma and grandpa. <3 There's a fair amount of Malaysian English here as well, so just be aware :)
     
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     Having breakfast with them is sometimes a stressful affair.

     There I was, trying to enjoy my breakfast that consisted of a bowl of muesli and an interesting book, but I suppose circumstances had dictated that my breakfast not be peaceful. And by circumstances, I mean those that come in the form of my grandpa and grandma.
     Grandpa was at the breakfast table on my left, leafing through the newspapers. Grandma was on my right a little distance away, sitting comfortably while skilfully cutting the kangkung, or water spinach, without a chopping board. The scene was ordinary enough, but of course, it was just another arena for their sharp-tongued battles.

      We were having a decent conversation when one party provoked the other (and as in all the previous battles, it was quite uncertain who had instigated it). A few nasty remarks were volleyed back and forth. Somehow we ended up on the topic of my grandpa's social skills - or lack thereof.

     "Ugh, the last time Christine's husband came over-" began grandma.

     "Wait a second, who's Christine??" I said. I am determined to be the pacifist in this word-war, speaking only to ask unnecessary questions or make inane comments.

      "Aiya, Christine is your ah yee (aunt's) friend lor. Anyway, her husband came over to visit. And was chit-chatting to your grandpa. He didn't say anything, just nodded and smiled," she waved her knife about as she was narrating the story. I saw a piece of cut kangkung fly off from the knife and onto the floor.

     "That's because I was watching TV!" my grandpa said in defense, his bushy eyebrows shooting up across his forehead in anger. But the effect was lost when he turned to me and grinned cheekily. He likes pushing my grandma's buttons, and he knows I know it.

     "When someone is talking to you, you should talk to them as well! Not watch TV," she huffed a little, clucking her tongue in disapproval.

      "Well, who asked that fella to be so bodoh (stupid)? I'm obviously only interested in the TV, I don't want to talk to him. No common sense," he said indignantly. But again, he turned and nudged me on my elbow, grinning as though we are sharing a secret joke between ourselves.

     My grandma's answer was lightning-fast, almost like she rehearses it on a daily basis.

      "You're the one who is bodoh!" And she began her tirade with a generous number of acidic insults that she has reserved specially for him. He gladly parried all her insults with some of his own. I tried to smooth things over by deflecting their attention to other things. "Look at the fish," I said, pointing at the tiny aquarium containing a single fighting fish. "Look how cute the fishie is." But to no avail. The fish merely became another topic that fed their fiery discourse.

     So the battle goes on. Then mercifully, there came the quiet and silence of a ceasefire. The two had quite worn out their colourful vocabulary used to verbally assault one another, and have decided to retire to their respective corners. One resumed cutting up the vegetables, the other content with flipping through the newspapers.

      I sighed in relief. From experience, I know the ceasefire wouldn't last long, and a fresh round of biting remarks is well on the way. But I'll enjoy the silence for now. Plus, despite being caught in the middle of the tension, I can't ever say that my mornings are ever short of being very very very entertaining.