My So-Called Family
I wrote a book called MY SO-CALLED FAMILY, so I guess I should explain the so-called family of mine. I have two parents and a sister. My parents are divorced. My dad lives in California. My mom lives in New York with her boyfriend, Phil. Though my mom and Phil are not married, it still feels like there should be terms to describe his and his family’s relationship to me, even if stepfather, etc., don’t officially apply. A while back, I started calling Phil “Faux Pa,” and it stuck. His kids became my faux siblings, and I’ve got faux nieces and nephews, too. So there you have it.
My faux bro IanMichael had his bar mitzvah yesterday, and it was tons of fun. It was great to see so many family members, real and faux, especially those in from out of town - given the snowstorm that hit New York the day before, I wasn’t sure they’d all show up. And because I am a bit codependent and neurotic, I was going crazy worrying about everyone. I left a bunch of messages on my faux sister’s voicemail, because I knew she was driving in from Pennsylvania, and I was obsessing about black ice. But she made it - everyone made it safely, albeit later than they expected. I wore a dress that I forgot I owned - it was stashed in the back of my closet. I found it at the last minute, while I was hunting for a shawl for Laura to borrow, and it felt sort of like shopping, except without spending any money (which I guess is the best way to go in this economy).
IanMichael did a great job and I think he had a good time - I barely saw him at all during the party, which is the way these things usually go. The buffet was delicious. There was a caricaturist drawing pictures of the guests, but after my sister and my best friend both had theirs done and they looked about 20 pounds heavier in their pictures than they do in real life, I opted out of having one. Now I wish I did sit for a caricature, but at least I have my IanMichael commemorative M&M’s. He wanted to order black ones, because black is his favorite color, though I have pointed out repeatedly that it is not so much a color as it is the absence of color. His father was also not into the black M&M idea, so he comprised with gray. I put mine in the fridge because I like the way they taste chilled.
Anyway, the best line of the day came from my two-year-old faux niece. My mom was trying to explain what the whole bar mitzvah thing was about. “Did Nicki have a bar mitzvah too?” Tesa asked. We were totally impressed - Nicki is another faux niece. She is also thirteen years old, and Tesa apparently remembered that. My mom said Nicki had had a bat mitzvah, because girls had bat mitzvahs. “Oh,” Tesa said. “So when did Minnie Mouse have her bat mitzvah?”