So, um… yeah.
Apparently my six year old niece asked her mom (my sister) why Auntie Annie wasn’t married yet. (I love that word “yet”. If you didn’t feel old and lame enough already, that little three letter word has the power to bring you to a whole new level of self-loathing.) My sister told her it was because I hadn’t met the right guy yet.
Really? I know she’s six, but I much prefer the divorce story. I mean, at least with the divorce story it sounds like someone once liked me enough to marry me… like I’m not some old maid holed up in her mom’s house with 16 cats and a lifetime subscription to Reader’s Digest.
Now that we’re apparently hiding the divorce from the six year old, I sound like the loser weirdo aunt who’s still living with mom pining away for some imaginary prince charming. Yaaaaaaayy!. Just what I wanted. To be that kind of aunt.
By the way… I’m not saying that single women in their early 30s living with their parents are lame. I’m sure there are very good reasons for why you are there. However, I was the last one to marry in my family (which, I suppose, is understandable being the youngest and all) and having the stigma of being the “single one” just isn’t fun. Kind of like I now have the stigma of being the “divorced one”. Yay! Go me! I am SO AWESOME!
Plus, if one more sentence uttered by my niece consists of, “Auntie Annie, when you get married…” or “Auntie Annie, when you have kids…” I may just lose it. I mean, I know she doesn’t know… but why doesn’t she know?! I don’t care if she knows! I want her to know! I would feel better if I knew that she knew. And then she could know… you know? It’s just that every time she says something starting with those phrases, it’s like rubbing salt in the wound.
I should just send out announcements, so people no longer have to ask or wonder and it would just be common knowledge and we could all move on.
Nah. That’d be too easy. We’ll just continue to play the game of “Guess who knows” and “How to explain your divorce to young children and random acquaintances that you’re really not that close too.:
Best. Time. Ever.