Our family has a strong aversion to talking on the phone, so we don't talk to one another often, but I always enjoy myself when we do catch up. He's the only member of my family I allow myself to be bitchy and sarcastic around. He has a real capacity to make me feel less like the crazy black sheep of the family and more like . . . I don't know, but I always feel better after we've had a conversation.
I've just let fly with the most sarcastic thing I've said all week, the sort of thing that I would never ever say around another member of my family, the kind of thing that might actually give me pause if I let it slip in mixed company.
"Just do it," he eventually manages to spit out. "Just once, say that."
***
I don't like going back to Southeastern Wisconsin.
I love the state, I love my family, I just don't like making the trip back to Mom and Dad's house. It's a long, tedious drive, and when I get there my folks are inevitably working or getting ready for a major holiday or doing something around the house and I don't get to see them or we end up arguing because we're all holifrazzled. Any friends I had in the area have either moved away or have kids of their own now. I hate, with the heat of a supernova, going for runs in the country.
I much prefer when they make a trip to Minnesota or we meet one another at the cabin. I like when I can show them the city I'm living in, introduce them to my friends, and generally demonstrate that I'm a successful, happy adult.
When I go back to their house I become . . . unimpressive. I forget that I am a successful, happy adult and revert back to the quiet, polite, painfully withdrawn kid I used to be.
***
"That . . . was brutal. Efficient, well conceived, well executed. If you don't mind, I'm just going to go bleed out in the corner."
One of the things I love and appreciate most about the people I am close to is the fact that I don't feel like I have to pull any punches. The above was someone's response to a (apparently) particularly well-aimed verbal cut. I am momentarily chagrined, afraid that this time I really did let my sarcasm and love of protracted verbal duels get the better of me.
When he assures me that No, really, it was fine. Your ability to skewer people is actually rather impressive it occurs to me that this moment is emblematic of my close relationships, of the reasons I have chosen to care about the people I care about.
When he assures me that No, really, it was fine. Your ability to skewer people is actually rather impressive it occurs to me that this moment is emblematic of my close relationships, of the reasons I have chosen to care about the people I care about.
***
"So, Kelly, anyone special in your life?"
From the time I get south of Madison until the time I cross the border back into Minnesota, I am asked this question approximately 532 times.
The family members who ask it are, I think, well-meaning enough. But it's one of only two questions they ask. It's never "I heard you're sitting your comprehensive exams, what's that like?" or "You mother told me you're training for a twenty-four hour relay race, what made you decide to do that?" or even "Are you going to catch a Brewers game while you're in town?" Nope. It's invariably: "Is there anyone special in your life?" or, equally frustrating, "When are you going to settle down and start a family?"
Inevitably my answers are "No" and "Not anytime soon" when I really want to respond with: "Well, I just got an IUD, so I wouldn't count on a baby shower invite anytime soon."
It's the kind of smartass reply I wouldn't hesitate to make to my friends or my older brother, but it's something I couldn't shouldn't say in front of my extended family. It's the reason I hate going back to Mom and Dad's. I rail constantly about how much I hate being buttoned up and I'm never a stiffer, more guarded, more repressed version of myself than when I'm back in Southeastern Wisconsin.
The funny, smart, mildly crazy girl who blogs about her sex life and can reduce a grown man to tears with a carefully aimed coup de grace?
She's in the corner grinding her teeth, getting drunk, and tapping her foot impatiently. For years I've stuck her back in that corner and told her to just sit down and be nice.
She's the one my older brother is encouraging me to let out of corner, to finally introduce to my extended family.
And for once, I'm actually considering it.
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