Are we going home or staying for another cup of tea?

PICTURE this: you are at a relative's house.

You just spent several hours visiting and the time has now come for you to head home. You get up, engage in the customary hand shakes and cheek kisses, and you verbally mouth your farewells. You then walk to the door.

Just as your relative is about to turn the knob, someone opens a new topic of discussion.

As you stand awkwardly near the door, attempting to leave but not knowing how to, the conversation which seemingly ended before the air kisses earlier, picks up again.

You spend the next 15 minutes with one hand leaning against the now partially open door, but still deep in conversation.

In the midst of everyone, including yourself, busily chatting away, you somehow manage to step outside, bringing the entire household with you.

As you slowly walk outside, with no sign of the conversation slowing down, a new topic crops up. Most likely about Kak Timah's daughter who went to the States and married a "mat salleh" who, "You know, wear shoes inside the house. How can?! Kita ni adat timur (We follow eastern values), she must teach her husband la!"

The next 20 minutes is then spent standing in the porch, discussing Kak Timah's daughter and her very Western husband.

Finally, the slow walk with a stop in the porch, gets you to the gate. Suddenly, someone brings up their car and how it broke down two days ago.

"Kereta baru ni semua tak tahan la, you know! (These new cars are not built to last)."

As you cling to the gate, one foot outside, and one foot still in the porch, you find yourself deep in conversation about cars and, "You know they don't make cars like they used to anymore. Remember the old Volkswagen? Bapak had one and we would all cram inside macam sardines gitu!"

So what happens next? 20 minutes of taking a stroll down memory lane. Then, you finally make it to your car, your hand slowly reaching for the handle. Bam!

Somebody asks if you received an invitation to Abang Jalil's housewarming party. The next 15 minutes is then spent talking about Abang Jalil’s hopeless wife who can't even make a decent cup of tea.

You have yet to open your car door. You now don't know if you're actually going to leave or make your way back inside because someone said they can make a good pot of chamomile tea "not like Abang Jalil's good-for-nothing wife".

So are you leaving, are you staying for another cuppa?

And there you have it, UK and Brexit, explained in local context.