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Ah, family. Having just returned from a week-long trip home for Thanksgiving, I think it’s safe to say I’ve had my fill of family for the next several months. I mean, I love them, but that doesn’t mean I’m not completely sick of them after a few days. There are many things that have annoyed me over the past week. My brother refusing to pick up our grandma despite it being his turn this year. My dad implementing a strict “no beer at the dinner table” rule out of nowhere, and for a reason none of us have yet to figure out. The biggest annoyance, however, was the questions. They were constant, they were probing, and worst of all, I had to pull my punches and answer them diplomatically. But what if I could give honest answers?
Do you have a girlfriend?
What I wanted to say: Yes, grandma. You’ve met her, like, four times. I know that you’re 87-years-old, but you gotta pull it together. How much rum is in that eggnog? How much?! Damn, never mind. It’s impressive enough that you’re even standing. Props to your doctor on that synthetic hip.
What I said: I do! You actually met her at Easter. Yeah, the brunette one. She is great. I know, I know. I’ll treat her nice. Not like my father? I don’t even want to know what that means. Do you need more eggnog?
So what’s new at work?
What I wanted to say: How many years do we have to go through this, Aunt Diane? I thought we established that you have no idea what I do last year, when I explained my job to you and you asked if I “sold things door-to-door or on the computer.” Why must you force me to condescend you every year by trying to explain that I write the words in ads using the simplest language possible? Can we just accept that you will never understand what I do and I will never understand what it’s like to be married to a rich guy who owns his own plane? I’m sorry. All this anger is stemming from jealousy.
What I said: Well, we just wrapped on filming a TV spot I wrote and I’m pretty excited about that! No, it’s…it’s not for Apple, I think they do all their stuff in-house. But it’s – what? No, it’s not going to air during the Super Bowl. That would be cool, you’re right. Hey, I actually need a refill on my eggnog, be right back!
Are you giving out the Netflix password to people?
What I wanted to say: What? No, dad. I’m 27. All of my friends have their own accounts, or at least, steal their Netflix from their own parents. Why don’t you ask one of my brothers, like, say, perhaps the one that lives with seven other bartenders in a Brooklyn apartment, or the one who lives in a frat house? I’m not Sherlock Holmes, but I’m pretty sure they’re the more likely suspects. Also, relax. It’s a Netflix account, not nuclear launch codes. No one’s stealing from you, old man.
What I did say: Definitely not. I know how serious online security is, and I would never compromise our account. Thank you for letting me use the family one, by the way. Did you need me to refresh your drink?
Oh, did I tell you that my friend’s son, Jonathan – you remember Jonathan, right? You two used to best friends in kindergarten. So cute. Anyway, he’s getting married next year. Isn’t that exciting for him?
What I wanted to say: Okay, mom. Here we go. I thought that by telling you my girlfriend and I are moving in together, I could buy myself some time before the marriage hints and questions began, but apparently it only expedited the process. As I’ve told you many times before, I refuse to get married a day before my 28th birthday, at minimum. Realistically, we’re looking at 29 or 30. I know. My girlfriend is great. I agree. That’s why we’re moving in together. Taking the next step in our relationship, as they say. You know that steps have to go in order, right? Otherwise you’re going to end up with a pretty shoddy staircase. It doesn’t matter if the metaphor makes any sense! Stop pressuring me! Maybe I’ll never get married!
What I said: No, I don’t remember him, mom, I was four years old in kindergarten. But good for him! And to a nice Jewish girl, too? Wow. Yup, I’m sure his mom is so proud. That’s awesome. Definitely happy for him. So have you heard your other son just got a new girlfriend? Nope, not Jewish. Not Jewish at all. You should go say hi, I think she’s in the living room.
Did you go out for Blackout Wednesday? I think your dad is a little hungover himself.
What I wanted to say: Hell yeah, I went out for Blackout Wednesday. And while normally I’d be mad at my dad’s girlfriend for blowing my cover, if it means you’re calling him out too, you’ve got my full support. Sometimes you gotta sink the ship to kill the captain, am I right? When I came home last night I saw several empty bottles of wine on the table, I assumed it was one of my idiot brothers who had drunkenly pilfered my dad’s wine fridge and was going to die for it in the morning, but somehow, this is better. HEY POPS! HOW’RE YOU FEELING? I HEARD YOU HAD QUITE THE NIGHT LAST NIGHT! STOP YELLING? I’M NOT YELLING.
What I said: HAH! I mean, uh, yes I did end up going out for a bit last night. Nothing too crazy, though. I tried to stay responsible, considering today was a big day and all. Hey dad, where’s that tequila you wanted me to try? Let’s do a little tasting. What do you say?
You trying to go rip some shots in the backyard?
What I wanted to say: Hell yeah, little bro. What you got? A six-year-old bottle of Captain Morgan that you found hidden under your old bed? Fuck yeah. Go tell our other brother to detangle himself from his little girlfriend and come take these with us. I love the holidays.
What I said: Hell yeah, little bro. What you got? A six-year-old bottle of Captain Morgan that you just found hidden under your old bed? Fuck yeah. Go tell our other brother to detangle himself from his little girlfriend and come take these with us. I love the holidays..