Last year my then girlfriend invited me to a family cookout. We had been dating for three months or so, so I guess it was time to meet her family. I’m going to say right now that I don’t like going to family events with any girlfriend’s family because everyone looks at you funny. The dad spends time sizing you up, and the brothers make stupid comments about treating her right. I don’t enjoy little kids, either. If they have sticky hands it’s even worse. I don’t like cleaning up someone else’s kids, and I don’t think it’s cute when they do stupid stuff. I don't like holding little kids, either. Hold your own kids, and I will hold my own when I have them. The old people all want to tell me about themselves or what my girlfriend did as a kid. I just don’t care about this stuff and would rather be out with my girlfriend alone. I’m not a dick or anything, but I don’t like having family affairs forced on me.
During this cookout, which was on Labor Day, we were supposed to go see fireworks with her family and then cut out for a bar to meet friends. The entire day her mother gave her flack for this and made underhanded comments to me about staying around. She kept dropping hints, saying, “My girl has grown up, it seems. She wants to go out later instead of stay with us and chat.” I think she wanted me to tell my girlfriend we could stay after the fireworks.
I didn't do that. I agreed with her. “You’re right,” I said, “she is grown up now.” This kind of confused her because I smiled when I said it. Later my girlfriend told me she was expected to clean up with the other women in the family after the fireworks, and this was part of why her mother was now moping around. Her mother dropped a few more hints and I made myself scarce with my girlfriend. I must have really upset the mom with my uncooperative behavior, because I think she poop sabotaged me. That’s right, I think she poop sabotaged me. I don’t know what else to call it. It went down like this:
Half an hour before we were supposed to leave to see the fireworks it got dark and some of us started drinking beers. I found two cool uncles out by the fire pit and we started to drink more and talk. Around this time I had to pee. When I went into the house I saw her mother in the kitchen, and she gave me a sideways glance or something, but I didn’t think anything of it. She’d been giving me funny looks all day, since I had made the remarks that her daughter was old enough to go out and party or whatever. When I came out of the bathroom and went back through the kitchen I saw her go into the same bathroom. (There were two bathrooms in the house people were using.) When I went into the house later to get my keys to give them to my girlfriend (because I’d been drinking) her father asked me why I didn’t tell anyone I had clogged the toilet.
I was totally shocked. “I didn’t clog the toilet, sir,” I told him.
He gave me a fake smile and said,”We all make mistakes. Don’t worry. My wife says she went into the bathroom after you and found it clogged. Next time tell someone. We have a plunger.”
I looked over to the mother and she stood nodding at her husband but she wouldn’t look directly at me. I didn’t know what to do. Had I been completely sober I might have eaten the situation and went on about my business. But I wasn’t completely sober. I had downed four beers, and this was enough to loosen my fat mouth. “Sir,” I stated, “I did not clog the toilet, but I did see your wife go in after I came out. Maybe she did it.”
This went over like a lead balloon. I had accused the mom of lying. I didn’t even think of a way to say what I said so the clog could be an accident.
The dad's face changed, and he started to ask me a question when my girlfriend and the two uncles came in and said they were ready to go. I waved and got the hell out of the kitchen. I imagine the dad was going to ask me what I meant by my remark.
The fireworks were OK, and we drank more beer. Later all four of us went to a bar and had a great time. My girlfriend drove me home and I paid for her to have a taxi back to her house. She still lives at home.
The next day she told me that her father did not like me, and her mother said I was "bad". When I told her what happened she didn’t believe me. She finally broke up with me in December. I think her mother and father had something to do with it. I was sad, but then again this meant I didn’t have to spend Christmas Eve at her house.