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Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Living In A Material World

I must be getting soft in my old age. I finally told Mr. Lane how badly I didn’t want to go to Michigan. He must be paying attention to our kids and how they trick me into agreeing to stupid shit. All he said was, “I really just want to go somewhere. We haven’t gone anywhere together in forever. Plus, think about all of the material my nut job family could hook you up with, babe.”

Since they are almost as insane as my own, I caved. Michigan, here we come.

An example of how nuts one of my own is: Mom’s dog barks every time someone thinks about walking on her block. When I am on the phone with her and the dog lets out that ferocious wail, my mom always says something like, “What’s wrong Lassie? Did that klutz bastard Timmy fall in the well again?” It makes me laugh no matter how many times she says it.

If I don’t walk away from that wedding with at least five gems like that, I’ll get the old man drunk, make him do stupid shit and then post his picture here for all of you to see.

The last time I got bored at a family party, I fed him lots of drinks. It was Halloween, he was dressed like a hooker. He wore a black wig, way too much makeup, a miniskirt and lots of gangly jewelry, with ridiculously high pumps. I was pregnant with our daughter and dressed like a construction worker. I had a hardhat, sunglasses, construction boots, my old man’s wrist watch and I had glued doll hair bits to my arms and V-neck chest area. My pregnant belly hung over the edge of my pants and the bottom of my T-shirt, where I had glued a trail of hair leading into my drawers. I made a butt crack out of a pair of nylons, which I glued curly doll hair to and had sticking out of the back of my pants.

As if convincing him to dress that way wasn’t fun enough, I got him drunk. He headed to the dance floor stumbling in his “fuck me pumps” and before long, he was whipping the socks out of his bra, flinging his “tits” at other guys. He also kicked the pumps off and did a little moon walking. He graduated to a support beam and treated it like a stripper’s pole. Good times.

Our kids will be with us at this wedding. Seeing their father do something like that could scar them for life. But for the sake of material, that is a risk we are just going to have to take.