Seriously, Something Has Got to Change
The funeral was lovely, my great-aunts (both the "outlaw" and the nun) are holding up well, and although it was a sucky reason to get together, it was good to see a bunch of relatives I haven't seen in a while. Not to mention it was a bit surprising to be greeted with so many "rock star" or "superstar" comments relating to my appearance on TV.
But d***ed if I wasn't asked repeatedly about my dating life by my doting Pop-Pop* and wonderfully well-meaning uncles.
(*Oh yeah, there also was the out of the blue question about if I'd "thought about entering the convent." Bless his heart. He's 89, so I spared him the "You couldn't pay me enough to live with a bunch of women" discussion. Or that I would hope I hadn't been oblivious to "the call" for a good fifteen years or whatever.)
But d***ed if I wasn't asked repeatedly about my dating life by my doting Pop-Pop* and wonderfully well-meaning uncles.
(*Oh yeah, there also was the out of the blue question about if I'd "thought about entering the convent." Bless his heart. He's 89, so I spared him the "You couldn't pay me enough to live with a bunch of women" discussion. Or that I would hope I hadn't been oblivious to "the call" for a good fifteen years or whatever.)
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My uptight/repressed/WASPy relatives tend not to ask. Thankfully.