When your family gets together over the holidays and your appearance is mandatory it does not always result in a very healthy atmosphere. The oldest brother is here with a girlfriend and a Karaoke machine. The second brother is at my mother’s with his middle son, the son’s wife, and their child, and another grandchild who is the son of my second brother’s step daughter from his second marriage (and the third marriage, but we shouldn’t hold that against him – apparently he wasn’t quite done with her). The third brother is here with his 4th wife. My sister and her 3rd husband own the house we’re at and host the annual Thanksgiving dinner every year.
Picture this:
First strike – I am very gay.
Second strike – I am very Wiccan.
Third strike – I am a very single mother.
You would think I was the personal spawn of Satan the way my family treats me sometimes.
They are all supposedly all Christians. They don’t always act like it.
The drive and the arrival – you brought a brown child?
The drive is 10 hours on a good day. When there is traffic it is longer. This trip was 13 + hours before we finally pulled into the driveway, exhausted. Gads how I hate these mandatory family holidays.
After three trips out to car to bring everything in, on my last load, my brothers ask if I need a hand. No, I just have to go lock the car up now, but thanks for asking. I tell the girls (mine and her best friend, who is half Filipino and has a dark complexion) to toss their stuff in the front bedroom, where we always stay because the bunk beds are in there. Children get bunk beds – that is surely an unspoken but unbreakable rule.
My sister says, “We didn’t realize you were bringing an extra kid with you.”
I had told them that we would most probably have my “other daughter” and to plan for it. We frequently bring my daughter’s best friend with us on trips. They know her from last year. This should not have been a surprise. They never say it out loud, but you can almost hear them thinking about having to have that “brown child” here again.
This year we have an extra couple staying at my sister’s house – my third brother and his 4th wife. They usually stay in a hotel, but this year they can’t afford it, so they are in the bunk beds. There is a full-sized mattress in the utility room. Apparently they figured it was better for a single gay female to share a bed with her 11 year old daughter than to have the married couple sleep together in the same bed. So the girls are sharing a full-size mattress in the utility room. They offered me an air mattress in there – uhm – no thanks, I’ll just crash in the recliner.
Conversation between my sister and I…
“You can’t sleep in a recliner. You need a bed.”
“I have slept in a recliner at home for the past two years. It’s fine.”
“But your oldest brother and the other brother’s 4th wife wake up and wander around in the middle of the night.”
“Won’t bother me. I can sleep through anything.”
“Well, OK, but are you sure?”
“Yes, I am sure.”
Please go to bed and let me relax. It’s been a long drive.
Ah-satellite TV! Wait? What?
Imagine my surprise when the stations I usually watch programs on aren’t even listed in the line-up. They just aren’t there. You mean to tell me that you are paying for satellite TV and you don’t even get channels that I have on my basic cable?
My selection was full of choices for all night religious viewing. No thanks. It seemed like all the channels that might carry something of the paranormal variety were blocked/unavailable. It is almost as if by limiting my ability to watch things that might encourage my Wiccan tendencies they will somehow “fix” me and make me Christian.
The oddest thing about the available programs? There were at least 30 porn channels available. Why allow porn in the Bible Belt but not stories about ghosts and Bigfoot?
Ah, the joys of visiting fundamentalist Christians in the Bible belt.
The first morning:
A good night’s sleep was had by all. The girls slept well in the utility room. My brother and his 4th wife slept well in the bunk beds (Yeah, I thought they would have been more comfortable in the full-sized bed in the utility room too). My other brother and his girlfriend were fine in the back bedroom. It’s Thanksgiving Day and we’re all happy to be here, or at least we pretend to be.
OMG – WHERE IS THE REAL COFFEE? Half-Caff? That’s all you have in the house? OMG I will DIE!!! You have to be joking. Where did you hide the real stuff? You know I can’t live on half-caff! Thank the gods I brought caffeine pills or I would never be sociable! I cannot deal with all you hypocrites on half-caff!
These people are trying to KILL me!! Or make me kill everyone around me. That part isn’t quite clear, but I am sure one of the two will come to pass.
After dinner drinks? and more drinks?
My sister made everyone hide their beer and assorted booze before mom and the other elders arrived for dinner. Dinner was served at 3:00 PM. There were over 30 people here. The elders must not know that the “children” were imbibing in alcoholic beverages. Mind you, my younger sister turns 50 next year. Everyone else is even older.
Some of the drinkers were sneaking into the garage to have a beer or refill their solo cups. By the time the crowd thinned out some after dinner, there were a few tipsy hypocrites flitting around. Our mother FINALLY left and the drinking began in earnest.
The 4th wife asked me if I would like a drink. I asked if it was alcoholic. She looked at me like that was stupidest question she had ever heard. Yes, of course it was alcoholic. I thanked her for the offer and plainly stated that I quit drinking in 1987. I tell them this every year. She’s been around at least ten years. It shouldn’t be a surprise.
She acted like I just killed her puppy.
“Well, I didn’t KNOW! Nobody EVER told me!”
“I tell you every year. Thank you for the offer, but I’ll pass.”
I’m sitting here minding my own business. Apparently it is now a personal affront to not accept an offer of a drink from the 4th wife.
Strike four – I don’t drink.
Girls, would you be upset if we leave early?
We have two more full days and a wake up on our scheduled visit. This is very stressful for me. Being in a house full of hypocrites that hate you is very exhausting. I try to be the better person, but my level of tolerance for the BS seems to be shrinking as time goes on. Maybe I’m just sick of pretending to be someone I am not.
I seriously don’t know if I will make it another two days.
Please, I hate it here. Just. Kill. Me. Now.
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