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Old Fashioned Nuts

my grandparents are in town this weekend, which meant I got my usual hour-long verbal scouring of my life and the panicky attack of tiny stressed out screams after the interogation was over and they unbelted me from the metal chair under the dim lightbulb. I swear, all they haven't done is given me a labatomy and search my brain manually.

my mom is getting married in January to a guy she's only been dating for 5 months; my best friend Tabby is engaged to her boyfriend after dating him for 6 weeks with plans to move in with him after the new year. it's been a crazy couple of weeks discovering these fascinating tidbits from everyone, and reflecting on myself and my boyfriend...could I do the same thing at this very second? He and I have been dating a little over 4 months, and I can't even conceive marrying him or anything of that nature within the next year. It just doesn't compute - flatly. So why do my mother, who's literally f%#@ed up every romantic relationship she's ever had, and Tabatha, who is in a pattern scarily close to my mother, think they can marry so soon?

So grandparents targeted me with the question of the night as: will you be in their weddings and the ethics involved. And then my literally crazy grandmother goes off on a tangent that if my mother were to repent to my father and want back in the family, we would have to take her in and remake the old family - boot my dad's girlfriend out the door, flush the past 4 years of post-divorce down the drain, and just welcome her back completely or else it's not really forgiving her. I think she's just saying that because my mother was the only one who listened to her and wants her back so she can have her under her thumb and microscope again.

I hurried off to the safety of the kitchen where my father was and performed tiny panicky screams into his shoulderblade, babbling back all the nonsense my grandmother was feeding me. I was going to lose it; I was going to go kamikaze on my grandmother; I was going to lock myself in my room with the radio turned on full blast because that would be the worst form of torture for my grandmother, to know I'm within her reach but she can't have me.

My dad stirred the spaghetti serenely and replied, "At least you have school tomorrow - your little sister has to spend the whole day with them because she doesn't have school."

Suddenly an hour-long interrogation seemed a lot better than it had 10 minutes ago while I was inside my grandmother's clutches.

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