My Family
I have been blessed with a wonderful husband, an adorable son, two bothersome (not to mention loud) dogs, two haughty felines, and three bug-eyed, overweight fish. Boy, that�s a mouthful.
I met my husband December 25, 1995. We both lived in an apartment complex which was affectionately known as the �poor man�s Melrose Place�. Other tenants included my best friend, Denis who worked with me (yes, that�s DENIS, not two n�s, just one), and the parts runner for the company I worked for as well. My husband, Chris, was friends with aforementioned parts runner.
Anyway, I had been at my uncle�s house where the whole family would meet for Christmas dinner (actually, late lunch). At that time, I had to endure the neverending scrutinization of being the oldest of my generation (AKA: the kids). Here are some examples of the lines of questioning that went on that particular year as well as a couple of delightful comments:
Inquisitor: Everyone
Question: Are you seeing anybody?
Answer: This is a trick question. If you answer �yes�, the elder will assume this person is obviously not worthy of a visit with the family, since this person is not there with you. Of course, it never occurs occurs to them that maybe they have family of their own. If you answer �no�, then you�ve obviously been too busy partying to settle down with a �good boy� and you�re headed down a steep rocky hill towards the fires of hell. If the inquisitor is Grandfather, either answer will get you a lecture about how all guys just want to get in your pants.
Inquisitor: Mother
Question: How are you doing?
Answer: This would be a loaded question if my mother really wanted an answer. I�ve realized that she�s too afraid of what I might actually say to listen to me. By the time I�ve said �Fine.�, she�s gone.
Inquisitor: Grandfather
Question: Did you make my sweater yet?
Answer: I had promised him I would make him a sweater about 6 years prior to this. �No, not this year�
Inquisitor: Sister
Question: So, what time are you leaving?
Answer: As soon as the Chinettes are collected.
Commentator: Aunt Lucille, my grandmother, Louise�s, sister
Comment: After big bear hug, says very loudly, �Louise, I thought you said Samantha was getting fat!�
Commentator:Mother
Comment: While snagging her fingers in my ratty hair, �Your hair is getting so pretty�, long sigh. By the way, this is always her attempt at a compliment when she finds everything else lacking.
Now, I realize that nearly everyone goes through similar situations with their families, some much worse (Actually, probably most). However, I�m talking about me. The reason I�ve gone on and on about this is simple. After a few hours of �don�t say what you�re thinking� scowls and veiled comments from my loving family, there is but one thing left to do. Luckily, my thankfully extravagant aunt and uncle gave me for Christmas a $50 bill. I escaped before kitchen duties were delegated, stopped at the first convenience store I came to, filled up my gas tank, bought a carton of cigarettes and a case of beer, and slunk home miserably.
Ladies and gentlemen, don�t believe my son when he tells you his Mommy and Daddy met at a church social. For this is how my husband and I truly met. I got back to my apartment complex, parked my car, and trudged across the parking lot with my load of cigs and beer. Since my head was hung low, I didn�t notice my coworker and his friend outside watching me. His friend, Chris, bellowed something about wanting to share my beer. My first thought was, �What a cheapskate! This guy has to have balls to beg beer from an innocent downtrodden female!� So, of course, not knowing who he was or anything, I invited him over. Don�t gasp, I had my friend, Joe, introduce us first.
So that�s the story of how I met my husband. After that, little things from his apartment started showing up in mine (toothbrush, clothing, forwarded mail, etc.), until one day I realized we were living together. Yada yada, we were married March 29, 1997.
Fast forward to September 28, 1999. My son, Nick is born. Long story short, greatest day of my life and all that jazz. It became clear early on that he was going to have a very demanding and colorful personality. This sounds bad, but really, his Daddy and I love him very much and wouldn�t have him any other way. Even though we did nickname him Czar Nicholas. Indeed, it seems his name, Nicholas Alexander, suits him perfectly.
My Nicky is starting 4K this month, and is very excited. My baby is growing up.
August 2003
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