Soft spot for old people (Singapore)

In my blog Playing the old card, I mentioned my upbringing instilling in me an extra level of respect towards old people.  

On one of my visits home, my mother suddenly recalled how I used to behave towards old people when I was a little girl.

Whenever people called on my mother, she’d drive them home at the end of the visit.  As I loved (still do) car rides, I always went along.  

The front seat was my turf*: I was the baby of the family, so I got the best seat for viewing the rest of the world as the car whizzed by.

My mother said, if the visitor was someone her generation, I’d absolutely refuse to relinquish my domain, no matter how my mother might try: 

“Let Auntie sit in front on the journey out, then you can have the front seat on the way back,”

“Auntie is a guest, so you must show some courtesy,”

“We only see her once in a blue moon,” 

“Auntie and mummy want to chat, we can’t do that with her in the back seat.”

My mother went on, “If the visitor was your grandma’s generation, however, you’d automatically get into the back seat without anyone having to suggest it.”

So, I already had a soft spot for old people since I was a little child.

For those whose first language is not English:

turf:  

(informal) 

an area or sphere of activity regarded as someone’s personal territory: he did not like poachers on his turf.

(Singapore, late 1950s–1960s)