I have this theory that my sister Ginny is accidentally going to marry a homosexual man without knowing it. See, at the time, my brother-in-law also won’t be aware that he’s gay. It’ll be one of those “closet-with-a-glass-door” situations. Let’s call this hypothetical brother-in-law Christian.
So Ginny and Christian will get married and we might wonder a little bit, but we’ll write it all off. “No, just because he’s into Broadway and really likes Spartacus and a cappella music and dresses really well, like Spencer Tracy back in the day, doesn’t mean he’s gay. After all, he loves Ginny and they’re a great match.” And a great match they will be.
The family will get along famously with Christian. We’ll go shopping and kick ass at Trivial Pursuit and I’ll think about insinuating the idea into conversations, late at night when we’ve all been drinking, but I’ll never go through with it.
They won’t have kids and my parents will be upset, but they’ll get over it, as they have 3 other daughters (myself included) to nag about having kids.
Then it’ll all come out, quite literally, at our Thanksgiving meal after they’ve been together for a few years. I love Christian, but he’s always been a little dramatic and occasionally somewhat cliché, so he’ll definitely choose Thanksgiving dinner as the place to make his announcement. It’ll be dramatic – a story for the ages. Dishware will be broken. Someone’s going to get mashed potatoes in her hair, and it might be me.
After the inital shock and disappointment, we’ll all get on with our lives, and we’ll all continue to be great friends with Christian because he is, after all, so cool. And he’s never afraid to tell us when a certain skirt makes our asses look fat.
By the way, Ginny was trying to make a case to prove that I’m a lesbian the other day, most likely because I haven’t had a boyfriend for a long time and am not afraid to name the girls I’d do. And I would, in fact, do a chick. Why not? Sexy doesn’t come with a gender.
Anyway. Among other things, her “evidence” was that I liked horses and my favorite color was purple as a kid. I didn’t really defend myself too much, because my mom did it for me.
My mother – my dear, sweet mother – basically insinuated that I like dick too much to be gay.
The best part? It’s true.