Recently my mother and I had a long discussion. In which she has agreed to lay to rest the “marriage thing.” In honor of this treaty I would like to reexamine the discussions we have had over the years. Enjoy. When I was younger I was told that I had plenty of time to get married. “DATE!” The parentals said. “You have plenty of time for marriage later on. Have fun. Be young.” They clamored. Now that I am “old” they have fervently admonished that I am overdue for a husband. At the senescent age of 29 I am far past my prime. I have gone steadily past the age where I should have procured a husband. Their desperation has become apparent in my everyday life. Hey dad. Going to the gym. See you later. Wait a minute! Who is this Jim guy? How long have you been seeing him? There is hope in his eyes as he says this. No daddy. Not Jim. GYM. Weights treadmills. His disappointment is clearly evident. It is being pointed out to me more and more that I am not married. Before leaving my house I always told my grandmother where I was going. Grandma, Im going to the dentist. The dentist? Yes. I have a cavity. You poor thing. You dont have a husband. I wish I could say that this is the only time she said these kinds of things. But it wasn’t. Any time she heard a train, she would dramatically cup her ear and say, “You hear that Sarah? That is all the men leaving the station.” I am not even sure what the means exactly. But she did it. A lot. She was also prone to pointing at random men and say, “What about him?” It didn’t matter if we were at church or out to eat. She was trying to point out my options in case I had over looked the male populace. Going to a wedding is often a challenge. Well at least it is when you go with my mother. People would ask, Do you have a boyfriend? Nope. You have plenty of time NO she doesnt! Shes almost 30! Apparently, 30 is the point in time where I become expired. Therefore it is off great importance that I find someone, anyone before this point. Anytime I look nice my parents ask me hopefully if I am going on a date. Nope. Just hanging out with friends. If I look particularly good my mother doesn’t believe me. When I get home I am asked if my date went well. Once again. I didnt go on a date. I met up with my FRIENDS. This is both sobering and depressing for her. Dating is especially a difficult thing to navigate through. This is especially true when my parents are aware that I am going on a date. My father has been known to smell me. Yes you read correctly. Smell me. He has been known to walk up to me and sniff me. You should go put on some perfume. Men like women who smell good. I get random unsolicited advice thrown at me when I get ready. While I am getting married my mother asks me a series of questions. She wants to know first and last name, where we met, where we planning on going, what car he drives, etc. She says she gathers this information so that in case something happens, she has something to tell the police. This makes me weary on every date I go on. Nothing like your mother telling you that you might be killed. But at least I have confidence because I gave her all the information she needs to catch my killer. As soon as I get home I am bombarded with questions on how things went. Usually not well. Disappointment is evident when I say this. Crest fallen I am often begged to give it another go. Exasperated my mother can be heard saying, What would be the harm of going on a second date? I am not sure how well she expected a date to go that she had previously gathered information on in case he tried to kill me. But all this is behind me now. The treaty has been signed. From now on my parents have agreed to stop being up marriage and dating. When I stop and think about it though, I should have never agreed to it. I am losing out on a bunch of writing material.
Posted on: Mon, 29 Sep 2014 00:02:59 +0000
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