Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Knocked Up!


When the fuck did everyone get pregnant? I mean, I did spend part of my Christmas at the hospital with my best friend welcoming my newest "niece" into the world, so I am aware of the recent baby boom. But I didn't really notice how many chicks are knocked up until I was at Target the other day getting my staples of wine, condoms and Wonder Bread. I must have seen at least a dozen bitches in different stages of Preggerilla. Has my parents new-found obsession with me getting pregnant given me Preggo blinders; much like when I see a man at a bar with a wedding ring, he suddenly becomes invisible to me?

Yes, my parents are baby fucking crazy. Not that their older than fuck-all asses need to be having any more babies, but ever since I turned 30 they decided my main goal in life is to give them grandchildren. Side bar: my mom already has 3 grand kids from my oldest brother - he is from a previous marriage so those are not my dad's grand kids, biologically speaking. So really, when I say "they" I mean my dad. And for the record, nothing is creepier than a 60 something man with a ticking biological time bomb. I learned first hand how bad my dad's baby craze was back in September... I will now regale you with my tale of woe. To the way back machine!

Every year my dad's company has a 3 day conference somewhere in South Florida. Since my dad lives in Michigan and I live in South Florida this is a perfect time for a little father-daughter bonding. Or as it usually turns out, drinking and football watching with a formal dinner thrown in for shits and giggles. I look forward to this every year since I am the biggest daddy's girl ever and am his only child. Being the prodigal daughter I am, I make the 4 hour drive across the middle of nowhere, Deliverance part of Florida so that we can get this shit show going. When I got there my Dad tells me I should go lay by the pool and order some drinks while he finishes up his day and then we will go back to the room, have some more drinks and watch the games before dinner. This is basically the best thing he can say to me and I happily oblige. Little do I know it is a trap.

I drink/lounge, we reconvene and I get ready to go to the pre-dinner cocktail hour with him. To appease him, I have on my most non-hookerish dress and all my girlie gear. We go to the cocktail hour and are schmoozing and mingling with my dad's cronies. All the while they are talking about how grown up I am getting, blah, blah, fucking, blah. At this point I am several day drinks, a few glasses of wine and some open bar scotches into the event. My Spidey senses are not tingling to alert me of the danger ahead. We get to dinner and I am so stoked- I see people at the table that I have met a few times and am sitting next to one of my dad's good friends. I say to myself "self, this night is going to be so awesome!! We are going to talk about football and drink and tell dirty jokes. YESSSSSSSSSSS!" so I relax and start on my first course of salad. And then shit got real.

What was an innocuous question of "so what are you doing these days" with my reply being "I am a real estate paralegal specializing in short sale negotiations in one of the most distressed markets in the country (nailed it!)" turned into the fucking Spanish Inquisition. Next it was "So, why haven't you finished school yet" followed by "You should go to Law School" and topped off with the biggest bomb of all "When are you going to settle down and give your dad some grand kids". My neck swivelled and I must have given my dad the stank-est of all stank faces because he threw his hands up and gave me the "I don't know what the fuck this guy is talking about face." And the carnage continued for the next 3 hours. I must have had 5 scotches and I don't know how many shots (did I mention the open mother fucking bar?) to try to deflect the baby missiles that were being hurled at me. I swear, if the awards ceremony hadn't started and one more wrinkly mother fucker asked me about babies I was going to tell them all I was a Lesbian and I was adopting a Chinese baby just to shut them up.

I know in my heart of hearts that this episode was brought to me by Karma and the letters F U. For years, my favorite April Fool's joke was to tell one of my parents I was pregnant. I started this when I was 15 and have done it off an on for almost 20 years. The first time I did it my mom was hysterically crying for several hours trying to figure out how she was going to tell my father. I get that there is a special place in hell for daughters like me. I have my boarding pass ready and I am good to go. And yes, I will eventually give my dad a grandchild, even if I have to buy one. For now, I will just have to keep practicing.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

I suppose it could be worse...you could be 35 and about to be a granny for the first time thanks to your 15 year old son who can't keep IT in his pants and by IT I mean his brain.

Craughing said...

Ugh, I feel your anguish and need for drinks!!

Anonymous said...

LMAO I got ambushed over Christmas with the "are you going to have any offspring by next year" question totally threw me, and my fiance, off guard. Lol