Parenting Done Right. . . and Me

What follows is a list of three case studies in my own family, all taking place yesterday and leading me to believe that I am in a family of wonderful parents, but if nothing changes, it may be good for me, personally, to remain a virgin.

Case Study #1

Transcript from a Phone Call with Mom:

"Follow your dreams, I mean directions. Do you need to get off the phone with me in order to do that?"

In a short interview with the alleged mother, I was informed that it supposedly felt more natural to finish "follow your..." with "dreams" than with almost anything else. Parenting FTW.

Case Study #2

A Convo with Aunt Vicki:

Aunt Vicki heard a loud knock on her door yesterday and after about 15 seconds, she came back walking with a small thing about two feet tall, who wore an argyle vest, small-child Einstein hair, and a scared deer look. The child looked nervous enough to forgo growing up in order to once again use his not-so-big-boy panties. 

Vicki looked the thing straight in the eyes, greeted him like a little adult, and introduced him to our rather intimidatingly large family.

"This is Dean's best friend..." she said, and proceeded to have a nice conversation with the strange little man. 

He calmed down and no panties were soiled... yet.

Case Study #3

Me:

To little deer-Einstein: "Do you want a cookie from a stranger?"

Choose Your Own Adventure: Losers' Edition

Circle the Correct Answer:

Wife: 

Why do you cheer for that (team, guy, side)? You know (they are, he is, it is) going to lose.

Husband: 
You don't know that. (the Chicago Cubs,  Bill Murray, Satan) could win this.

Wife:
Yeah, one round. But you know they won't make it to (first base, first base, heaven). I mean, I can basically guarantee (their, his, its) fans are going to be either really bored or really depressed way before the (playoffs, end of the first half hour, Armageddon). They'll be leaving the (bleachers, theater, world) halfway through.

Husband: 
Well, it's more than just winning and losing. It has a lot to do with sticking to your guns, being committed. It's about loyalty.

Wife:
Or pride.

Husband:
Okay, okay, miss mainstream. Did it ever occur to you that it could be about principles? Shhh! Wait for it, wait for it..... Oh! (They, He, They) almost had that in the bag!

Wife:
I wish you'd just put less effort into a losing cause, it always puts you in a funk afterwards.

Husband:
Aaaaand.... Denial! Honey, did you see that?

Wife:
And during. I mean really. Do you even remember that there's anything else going on? Like that (bake sale, bra burning, bake sale)? It's tonight you know.

Husband:


Wife:
Perfect. I'm glad we had this conversation.

The Best Reason to Not Marry

Just today I was introduced to a book featuring a main character who was also (dun dun DUN) an imaginary friend. While I've never had my own imaginary friend, I was reminded of my last encounter with an imaginary friend.

A few Christmases ago, my boyfriend and I visited some of his close family friends and I should have known from this experience alone it would never work out. 

It all seemed so normal and pleasant. It was dark outside and the woods outside Seattle were thick and quiet. There was a wet, musty kind of smell spilling off the trees and onto us as we walked towards the over-sized, log-like home hand in hand. We were dreaming about families and the social calls we made were almost like a sort of integration ceremony. This one was special. This family had known Tyler almost his whole life and I just knew they would be wonderful. Then...

A red flag.

A red flag that I didn't notice, but wish I'd picked up on sooner.

As we walked into the house, there was a wonderful smell of something cooking, family and friends everywhere snacking and talking and laughing, and a cute little girl with blonde pigtails and a pink dress who seemed to be playing contentedly alone. Sort of intimidated by the family and intrigued by the girl, I walked over and started to play with her. But something was wrong.

"No, Caroline. Go in there!" The little girl picked up her doll and threw it forcibly into a clear plastic box. "You're stuck in there. Without air. Forever." Her curly pigtails bounced and she looked at me with a smile.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Amy." She turned away with her lip curled up just a bit, grabbed the box again very gently, and then, with the strength of a Norse god, started shaking it.

I turned to my boyfriend to see if he thought it was as weird as I did, but he just laughed. "Isn't she cute?"

Cute.

When I turned back to Amy, she'd since thrown the doll and its plastic prison on the ground letting Caroline tumble out into oblivion and moved on with her life. Amy had started playing with her imaginary friends. There were two. Carlos and ... Caroline.

"Someday Caroline and I will get married and Carlos will be sad." Her slightly homophobic parents just laughed and said she didn't understand marriage. I can't help but wonder if she knew more about it than they gave her credit for. When I turned back, Amy had a surprised look on her face, her lips making a perfect "O."

"Uh-oh!" She said shrugging her shoulders like a perfect OshKosh commercial. "Carlos is dead." :)

As Amy skipped away, her parents tried to explain to me how that was normal and that Carlos had already died 5 times that day, but don't worry, he always comes back.

I left that night in a daze, holding Tyler for support. He thought she was cute. We did not get married.

P.S. On the subject of red flags...