Mr. President, I Don't Love You

Cool It, Or I'll Go Nuts

Rolling into town for the holidays, distant relatives start hounding me about tying the knot, popping out kids, and pitching in around the house.

The working stiff in me fires back, "Why the rush? Might as well have the Grim Reaper nag you too."

What's this? A wife's gotta be a saint, and a girl needs to be a docile workhorse.

I don't give a damn.

With a few sharp words, I zipped every gossip's lips and pushed them back by miles.

Dropping the pretense, I've been living on cloud nine.

——

"Jessie, can't you see all the ladies busy in the kitchen? Such a blind spot will keep you single forever."

Just as I opened my mouth, Mom subtly squeezed my hand.

Choking back my reply, it's the same circus every Thanksgiving.

Guys loafing around, puffing cigars, guzzling beer, boasting about peanuts, all armchair quarterbacks for national affairs.

While the ladies tirelessly keep the wheels turning in the kitchen, all to preserve the men's pride.

Grandma in the kitchen grumbles, "Marrying off to a woman who can't pop out a boy, my son must've walked under a ladder, stuck with a dud."

Mom reminds me we only come here once a year, no need for drama.

"Just suck it up for Dad's sake, it'll blow over."

As course after course rolled out, I was itching to bolt after dinner.

"You can't sit, Jessie! You and your mom are not allowed at the table."

I whirl around, stunned by Grandma's latest antic.

"You and your mom lack manners—girls are supposed to wait on the men. And your mom, showing her face here without having a son, I'd have run headfirst into a tree if I were her."

Ha, I turned to Dad, to see if he heard this nonsense.

Dad looked trapped, and eventually just lowered his head in silence.

"We only come back once a year, don't stir up Grandma, she's been through a lot too."

That even got Mom down.

Once upon a time, Mom didn't mind Dad being dirt-poor, backed him blindly to kickstart his career, and here we are.

He promised just to come back for a meal and swore no hassle for us.

Hearing her son, Grandma beamed brighter than ever.

"Not to be harsh, Jessie, but why bother with college when you're just gonna be someone else's gal? Might save the dough for a check-up, try for a son, or maybe adopt one."

"Grandma's picked out a good catch for you, right here from our neck of the woods, they've even built a decent house, he's older but older men treat you better, I squared it away yesterday, you two should start dating."

The men around cheered on, pushing me to make a good first impression later.

This is beyond the pale!

"Totally forgot, where do you ancient relics dig yourselves up from? If you're so fond of the guy, why don't you marry him, Grandma? Might not get a son out of you at your age, but you'd sure spoil him rotten."

Grandpa slammed his fork down, and steely-faced ordered Mom to leave, and he needed to straighten me out.

Dad played peacemaker, nudging Mom to make a quick exit, and told me to bow and apologize to Grandpa.

"It's Thanksgiving, meant to be merry, let's not brawl any longer."

Mom snorted, snatched up the soup and overturned it on Dad's head.

Seaweed and eggs dribbled down his hair.

Mom, amid Grandma's screeching and Grandpa's bellowing, flipped the dinner table.

"This barren woman isn't serving you a bunch of overlords anymore. George Bryan, what makes your family think they can set up my daughter? How about cleaning yourself up and getting hitched instead!"

"You better have a solid explanation today, or I'll see you in court, thinking you're some kind of blueblood."

With that, Mom grabbed her bag, dragging me out in a whirl.

I turned back gleefully, taunting them with a mocking, "Na-na-na-na-na."