And then sometimes what happens simply exceeds our expectations.
Where the monster in the closet actually does exist.
Feeling particularly frisky last night, we decided to brave the relative unknown and head towards the suburbs to beard the fearsome Tradimum of Lanky Lex in her den. And hey, we needed a cup of tea. After the many successive aborted tea parties planned at the Tradimum's, the gang decided to make a surprise visit of our own.
Ever since Lanky Lex's unexpected coming out, his sternly disapproving Tradimum ( traditional mum for the uninitiated! ) has been maintaining a discreetly low profile - apart from an unprecedented automobile attack sometime back. Possibly biding her time polishing the silverware while glancing with obvious horror over at the scandalous sexcapades of her sodomite son.
But since I'd met Charming Calvin's mother who turned out not to be such a devilish dragoness, I figured most monsters aren't quite as loathsome as painted.
At least I hoped so.
OMG! I am too young to die!
So taking up the challenge like the knights of old, we made our intrepid way over to face the Tradimum - hoping that a civilized supper party would be just the thing to soothe the beast. Uncertain of our reception, Lanky Lex met us pre-emptively at the gates only to leave us with a warning to be prepared.
Paul : Will she jump in front of us with pitchfork in hand?
Calvin : Will she be armed to the teeth with fangs and knives?
Paul : And poison?
Lex : Of course not! Umm... well at least I don't think so.
Not exactly comforting.
He was right though. Start shaking in your boots, sonny! Oh yes, the Tradimum truly deserves her reputation. :)
As we nervously tiptoed in, the earlier conversation froze in the air and with just one frigid glance from the Tradimum, the temperature around fell several degrees below zero. With chilly disdain, the Tradimum greeted us from her throne before waving us on our way. Positively glacial. Obviously the though that her son was keeping company with a pack of avowed homosexuals left a bitter taste on her mouth. Certainly no flaming dragoness biting homosexual intruders at the gates but even as we scurried away, I could already feel the icicles forming at my heels.
Or maybe that's because we interrupted her favourite Cantonese drama.
But we never did get our tea.