Dial A For Aunties

by Jesse Q. Sutanto

I have four mothers and all of their hopes and dreams have been placed on my shoulders. I’m basically driven by a mixture of caffeine and familial guilt.

The fact that there’s no question among them that I did the right thing in defending myself is as soothing as a tight hug, and I just want to melt in their arms and sob and let them take care of everything.

Big Aunt nods solemnly. “I hear about this kind of Internet scam before. Is called goldfish.” “Catfish,” I say. “No, I’m sure is call goldfish. Because pretend got gold, but actually just a fish.”

How does my mom do it, every time? She’ll find me in pieces, and somehow, some way, she manages to put me back together.