What do you say when your grandmother brings her married boyfriend over for Christmas?
You say nothing.
But you do get very, very drunk.
So, let me paint the scenario for you. My grandmother had invited herself over, and had decided as well that she was going to bring her boyfriend.
My sister and I ran to the store, she
wanted needed hummus and I needed wanted wine. We come home, and my dog decided to get in the trash. I carry up the much needed items, which magically also included Ben and Jerry’s Almond milk ice cream too. Then went to clean up the trash.
Then I hear the car.
I gathered myself, regretting that I hadn’t downed the entire bottle of wine the moment I stepped foot in the house. I took a deep breath for composure, and walked into the line of sight.
Grandma tried to get me to hug the strange man, I nicely declined, claiming, “Looks like he has his arms full.”
The moment we were back in the house I dug through the drawers searching for the corkscrew, which seems to only make its appearance when I come home. I poured red wine into a very large coffee mug, trying to be slightly discreet, hoping grandma wouldn’t notice I needed to be intoxicated to deal with her. Walking down the hallway I run into my mom. I offer her the mug of wine. She quickly inhales half of it. My brother walks around the corner and inhales the rest. Here I stand, still sober as a judge.
I quickly inhaled red wine, and could feel it in no time at all, being on an empty stomach.
Grandma doing the fake laugh, I could hear her mumbling and talking shit from the kitchen. I was pouring myself another mug of wine.
Her boyfriend, whom I didn’t care enough for to even learn his name was not only still married, but was 12 years younger than her, and was a condescending prick.
Granted, I don’t even know how to describe what I do for a living without sounding pretentious, but he was just being a smug prick.
In no time at all mom and grandma were picking a fight about all of grandma’s boyfriends. Grandma was talking trash about our family. What’s-His-Fuck has to butt in with his two sense that nobody wanted or asked for.
With that my brother and I snuck off to get some air, as the wine was still flowing through my system.
I hadn’t been that drunk in a long time. I remember sitting on my brother’s floor eating a Larabar. Talking about our trashy grandmother, and her weird creep boyfriend, and having a midlife crisis about what to do with my life.
My brother went to the living room briefly, and came back to his room, informing me they had left.
With mumbled words, I asked if I should go hurry and say goodbye. He said not to worry about it.
The feeling of disbelief and confusion came over me.
In almost the same way as telling someone, “I went home for Christmas and it was chaotic. My grandmother brought her married boyfriend over.” He responded, “I understand.”