"Come on, my boy, come eat! I'm getting married!"
These were the first words that came out of my mother's mouth this morning when I walked into the kitchen. And, of course, I thought I was still asleep. That my mother wasn't really making pancakes in the frying pan, casually dropping on me out of nowhere that she's suddenly getting married! I was definitely having one of those absurd dreams where all the crazy things happen. But no, I was awake. Awake and obviously facing a midlife crisis of my mother. I knew that in the past few months she had been seeing some guy, but I hadn't paid much attention. My mother's relationships never last long.
But here I am, less than eight hours later, dressed in a ridiculously tight tuxedo that's too small for me, picking listlessly at the pieces of salmon on my plate, next to an equally unpleasantly surprised stranger whom I'm supposedly supposed to call my stepbrother. Meanwhile, our parents and so-called adults are groping each other on the dance floor, passionately dancing to some slow R&B track from the '90s. A scene that will definitely haunt my nightmares!
Shoot me on the spot and put me out of my misery! "Maybe it's the fish," says Fenelly next to me, who has suddenly turned yellow as a lemon, "but I feel like something crawled into my stomach and died there." Or maybe it's because his father is getting handsy with my mother in front of a bunch of waiters who work for minimum wage, and no matter how many tips they get, it's not enough for the nonsense they're witnessing.