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So the other day, she comes up in conversation and he says, “Yo! Pops is real!” I take it as “her dads a real cool dude,” but that’s not what he meant. He went on to tell the story of how one time some young man called his cousin a b***ch and she went home upset and informed her father. Her father proceeded to go to the gentleman’s house with a hand-gun, ordered everyone out … “but you”, and proceeded to pistol whip the young man. And when I say young man, I mean young … he was in high school. He concluded the story with, “N***a … pops is real!”
Immediately two things came to mind –
- I should end this before she gets any reason to have hurt feelings and
- I really don’t like meeting peoples families.
I know for a fact from where my apprehensions stem. My family is great, in that I must maintain at least a different time-zone kinda way. They appear normal from the outside, but their anything but. Til this day I still get asked about girls from middle school biology study groups and my mom takes recreational college courses with my sisters ex-boyfriend from high-school’s mom. For these reasons and more, I’ve decided that if and when I ever get married (and the IF is winning), they’ll know when to show up to the church. Whenever asked about my romantic life, the subject is abruptly changed or flat out ignored.
Now don’t get me wrong, other people’s parents and families love me. I’m personable, speak well, look presentable and am comfortable in any setting. Mothers find me polite and charming and always love my smile and dimples. Dads usually say I’m “a fine young man” and comment on the firm handshake. But I just don’t like it. Putting on “the act”.
Families are always awkward in my opinion. Because I’m the type to actually listen (most of the time) I pick up on and remember things that are said. How can I look you mother in the face, when you just told me the other day how she is crazy as hell and made you and your siblings attend cult meetings every Friday night? Then there’s your father, the porn addict who use to spend the utility bills on prostitutes. And don’t forget your grandmother, the neighborhood “crazy cat lady.”
Growing up dating in high school and middle school, meeting families wasn’t that bad. Especially since they were probably already known from around the way. Back then, the worst case was this chick whose mother use to always say “why can’t you be more like (your older sister) or (younger brother).” Til this day I don’t know what she meant by that cause she seemed to be doing all right to me. I always felt like a little piece of me was dieing inside when ever her mom was driving us somewhere or we all were eating dinner. But things went down from back then.
Maybe its because I like to compartmentalize my life, but I file families right after “Did you have a bowel movement today?” but before “what do you wash first in the shower?” All are on a need to know basis.
Is this just one more thing to add to the list of what’s wrong with me or can somebody else co-sign?