Hobocamp

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

My father left us when I was not yet two, and my brother was just a wee baby. Don't worry, I'm not about to launch in to some "Poor me and my dysfunctional family" monologue because this was one of those situations where divorce really improved the lives of everyone involved. I'm pro, and only slightly nuttier than the average bear because of it, whereas if my parents had stayed together I'm positive I'd be a living-on-the-roadside-speaking-a-made-up-language-tinfoil-hat-wearing-DIY tattoos-batshit-sack-o-crazy.

My mom hasn't dated a lot since they got divorced twenty-three years ago because after he left, she was pretty busy working full-time, going to school at night, and raising two kids, all on her own. But she's adorable and funny and smart and men have consistently asked her out and tried to woo her for as long as I can remember. She would go on dates here and there, but she was never really comfortable with sharing her attentions. (I know, not so healthy.) She was just so incredibly devoted to us. To be fair, she's now set the bar pretty flipping high because I have the same expectation of adoration and awe of strangers that I received my entire life. But that's another issue.

Anyway, when I was five, my mom went on a series of dates with a man I'll call Ken, because that was his real name. I remember him being nice enough- he bought toys for my brother and me, and he played whatever games Ben told him to- but for whatever reason, I hated his presence in my life.

I don't know if the problem was that he came along at a period where I was still not ready to trust anyone with a weiner or if I sincerely disliked him for some other reason, but I was not cutting this guy one teensy weense of slack. No chance.

He bought me books; I buried them in the backyard.

He bought me toys; I threw them away.

He tried to talk to me; I pretended to be asleep.

Poor thing.

My mom asked me once why I didn't like him. Unable to articulate everything I was feeling, all I could say was "I hate his hair." Ahh, shallow and superficial at such a young age. Precocious indeed!

My brother, the traitor, played with the toys and accepted the piggy back rides and frolicked in the attention and left me miserable and alone on the other side of the living room. Jerk. But having 50% of her children accept her choice was not enough. No, my mom wanted 100% compliance. So she had this master plan wherein Ken would take my brother and me out to a special lunch, just the three of us, so we could come home BFFs.

Can you believe this guy agreed to it? Amazing.

So, off we go. Ben was chipper as all get out, Ken was nervous, and I was being as big a bitch as a five year old can be. Which, in case you are wondering, is pretty big. What can I say? It's a talent I've had since birth.

Lunch, as I recall, was fine. We got to go to McDonald's. My mother NEVER let us go to McDonald's when we were little, so this was truly a special treat. We had finished our lunch and Ben was playing in the ball pit (I don't want to hear about the germs, because that shit was FUN) when Ken tried to get on my good side.

"Your mom showed me the book you wrote in class. I read it. It was really, really good."

"Oh? I'm glad you liked it," I said coolly. "It was meant for children, but I guess if it entertains you that's nice too."

"Yes. It was good."

Suddenly, I had a seemingly brilliant thought. "You know what, Ken? I have something to tell you."

I still remember how the poor man perked up, thinking he'd finally made some progress. "Really? Okay."

"If you're going to be spending time with my mom, you have to be accepting of us. Not everyone is."

If you're wondering, it was not uncharacteristic to speak of "being accepting, tolerant, loving, etc" in my house. Those are BIG deals to my mother.

Ken said "O-okay. I mean, I think I am."

"Well, that's probably because my mom hasn't told you yet."

"Told me what?"

"Ken. My family and I are in the KKK. And if you are my mom's boyfriend, you have to be in the KKK* too."

At this point, Ken was just staring at me. I smiled and got up to play with my brother and then we went home a while later. He never mentioned anything about it.

YOU GUYS. THE KKK? I must have seemed like the embodiment of demon seed. I can't imagine a bigger "fuck you" from a 5 year old than "I hate you so much I'm going to pretend I'm a racist."

Shortly after that, my mom and Ken broke up. I have no doubt that he told my mom what I said and my mom, who never mentioned a word of it to me, realized how much I disliked this mostly-innocuous situation and ended it. And my cute little ma hasn't really dated much since.

(Oh, and PS? Lest you mistakenly become impressed with 5 Year Old Meg who manages to come up with such an abhorrent lie and successfully end a relationship between two adults, allow me to tell you that I also went home and told my mom that Ken said at lunch that he was interested in SELLING US TO AN ORPHANAGE. Because...orphanages buy children? That's...how they're making their money? Because they HAVE money? What? I'm a moron.)

I didn't start feeling bad about this until a few years ago when the memories came flooding back. I called my mom and apologized. She just laughed and told me my timing was funny because Ken had recently gotten married, or so she'd heard.

"Ooh," I said. "Sorry I made you guys break up, Ma. That could have been you marrying him if it wasn't for me."

My mom chuckled. "No, I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"Oh, Meg. Lots of reasons. But he really did have some stupid hair, didn't he?"

*Okay, one more disclaimer. The only reason that I knew what the KKK even was was because earlier that year, there had been some sort of hullaballoo in Missouri because of a KKK rally. I remember seeing them on TV and asking my mom who they were, and she told me. So I knew that being one of these hateful people was the one of the most awful things you could do. Therefore, when trying to drive away potential suitors, it could be valuable to align yourself with them.

Labels: family

posted by A Lover and a Fighter at 10:06 AM -

7 Comments:

At 5:15 PM, jamelah said…

Wow. I never knew that seeing the letters KKK all together like that could make me giggle so much.
At 6:53 PM, pistolah said…

This may truly be one of the greatest stories I have ever heard.

Kids do the darndest things.
At 7:41 AM, TK said…

Jesus. Your mom is a saint. If you were my kid I'd have sold you to an orphanage. But I guess in retrospect, it's adorable in a Damien/Demon Seed kind of way.
At 7:44 AM, Fraulein N said…

That's hilarious. And horrible, but mostly hilarious. Poor Ken. I wonder what he's up to now.
At 3:25 PM, Colleen said…

Duh FN, Ken and his new wife are trying to sell kids to the orphanage!
At 4:25 PM, A Lover and a Fighter said…

Jamelah- Nor did I know they could cause me such personal chagrin.

Pistolah- if it's great, it's only great now. I think it was probably very awful at the time.

Tk- I know. I deserved to be sold.

FN- He got married! Now maybe he'll have later-in-life-weird-haired babies.

Colleen- And I bet they're making a mint, too.
At 10:11 AM, Bent Fabric said…

lmao!! That was deliciously evil.