Every Day Is, Like, Father's Day
(Kudos to anyone who managed to catch my play on the Morrissey tune title.)
Ah, Father's Day. Yet another fucking Hallmark holiday designed to rack up the retail big bucks and make us all feel guilty--yes, even dads, who would probably much rather be screwing around in their respective basements, garages and toolsheds (or doing nothing at all) instead of being surrounded by cackling hen relatives and unwrapping shitty ties and coffee mugs they'll never wear/use.
Which is why I didn't get my own dad (who will usually just go get himself anything he wants/needs) anything. Or Ben (because he knows how I feel about these gay-ass non-holidays). And I sure as shit didn't get anything for db (because the only thing I'll ever give him is a swift kick in the ass).
I did grace them all with my presence. Db first thing this morning when I delivered Bob to him for their special time. Ben all friggin' day. And my father when we made the trek to my parents' house for a get-together with my immediate family.
This is the sucky part about being married (well, one of them)--the family gathering shuffle. Every friggin' holiday, the respective in-laws launch their campaigns for the married couple's attendance. My parents kind of suck at this, as my mother tries to use that subtle Irish Martyr Mom tactic ("well, that's okay, we understand you guys have your own things to do..."). Ben's mom is much better at it. Yesterday she not only offered to pick us up at our house and drive us to her sister's house (where the fete was being held), but she actually upped the guilt trip ante with this statement to my husband: "your grandma sure used to read you a lot of stories."
Not that it matters, because Ben's grandparents are only in their 70s, whereas mine are 89 and 93, so my aging grandparents trump his by a long shot.
Truth be told, I really just wanted to go to my parents' house so I could see New Baby (my sister's latest creation). I have three nieces--Sis, who is 4 months Bob's senior and New Baby's older sister; Old Baby (who I have now christened ODB, or Ol' Dirty Baby), my other sister's kid; and New Baby, who is almost 4 months old and who I have seen exactly twice--once on Easter and today. New Baby is cute--very happy and smiley. But she barfs a lot, so I'll have to remember to not wear black to family functions for a while.
All right--time to put Bob to bed and explain to him why it's not okay to fondle himself on my sofa.
Ah, Father's Day. Yet another fucking Hallmark holiday designed to rack up the retail big bucks and make us all feel guilty--yes, even dads, who would probably much rather be screwing around in their respective basements, garages and toolsheds (or doing nothing at all) instead of being surrounded by cackling hen relatives and unwrapping shitty ties and coffee mugs they'll never wear/use.
Which is why I didn't get my own dad (who will usually just go get himself anything he wants/needs) anything. Or Ben (because he knows how I feel about these gay-ass non-holidays). And I sure as shit didn't get anything for db (because the only thing I'll ever give him is a swift kick in the ass).
I did grace them all with my presence. Db first thing this morning when I delivered Bob to him for their special time. Ben all friggin' day. And my father when we made the trek to my parents' house for a get-together with my immediate family.
This is the sucky part about being married (well, one of them)--the family gathering shuffle. Every friggin' holiday, the respective in-laws launch their campaigns for the married couple's attendance. My parents kind of suck at this, as my mother tries to use that subtle Irish Martyr Mom tactic ("well, that's okay, we understand you guys have your own things to do..."). Ben's mom is much better at it. Yesterday she not only offered to pick us up at our house and drive us to her sister's house (where the fete was being held), but she actually upped the guilt trip ante with this statement to my husband: "your grandma sure used to read you a lot of stories."
Not that it matters, because Ben's grandparents are only in their 70s, whereas mine are 89 and 93, so my aging grandparents trump his by a long shot.
Truth be told, I really just wanted to go to my parents' house so I could see New Baby (my sister's latest creation). I have three nieces--Sis, who is 4 months Bob's senior and New Baby's older sister; Old Baby (who I have now christened ODB, or Ol' Dirty Baby), my other sister's kid; and New Baby, who is almost 4 months old and who I have seen exactly twice--once on Easter and today. New Baby is cute--very happy and smiley. But she barfs a lot, so I'll have to remember to not wear black to family functions for a while.
All right--time to put Bob to bed and explain to him why it's not okay to fondle himself on my sofa.
posted by Mitzi Green at 5:37 PM
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