I have this sneaking suspicion that my mother is trying to marry me off. Well, maybe it’s not gone that far yet. I have yet to receive daily communication from her stating that she’s found “the perfect [insert religion] [insert high paying profession]”. However, I would not be surprised if she busted out the old phone book that lists all the moms from our 1980s era play groups to see if there are any desirable bachelors out there.
Its not that I don’t want to get married…it’s just not on my radar at this very moment. Or any moment in the near future. I just moved to a new city, I just started a new job. I can barely plan what’s for dinner tonight let alone an entire wedding! And I know I’m not the only one. Yes, I know, every time I log onto Facebook it seems that I am greeted with yet another engagement announcement. But I have what, a thousand friends? That means it would take at least three years of a friend getting engaged every single day before I was the last (wo)man standing. If I look around at my group of friends in real life, only a handful are married or in a serious relationship. I should go back to the standard parent response – if all your friends jumped off a bridge, would you? I always said no any time this ridiculous saying came out an adult’s mouth. I am afraid of heights. At the moment, I say no to this bridge as well. I am afraid of puffy white dresses.
My mom will frequently run into old classmates’ parents at the grocery store. I thought she would be happy enough saying that I was no longer working at the mall and wasn’t raising any illegitimate grandchildren on my behalf, but no, apparently that’s not good enough. She’ll tell me about how somebody I used to know is married and then gives me that look. I’m sure any single woman above the age of twenty five knows what I’m talking about. Of course, when I remind her that this individual has been dating their significant other since before we could legally go to bars, she asks about me and whoever I happen to be dating at the moment. Note to all you singletons with wedding-hungry parents: don’t even breathe a name of your sexually preferred gender around your parents. I swear, I can be talking about the old man that delivers the mail and my mom will suddenly perk up and be all, “Who’s Rooobbbeerrrtttt?” Sigh.
I am heading home at the end of the month for the holidays, so for now I have a few weeks of peace and quiet before it starts all over again. Anybody else’s parents starting to play matchmaker?