Spiders, Monkey Brains and Casserole...

The household of Mel is full of Kauai wolf spiders. Not literally, although, I have always wanted a pet tarantula. I mean that, in terms of family relationships we seem to be modelled on this breed of spider instead of Homo sapiens. After mating and conceiving the female tries to eat the male. Luckily my dad has infinite patience and can hold his own. In times of stress or starvation the mother will eat her young. My sisters and I have learnt to avoid my mum while she is dieting. In return when we grow old enough to leave the nest, we too will turn cannibal and eat our parents as a send off.  In other words we don’t get on well.

Say what you like. I think spiders are cute.

Don’t get me wrong, my family of spiders belongs together, who else would buy me a kilo of apples a day? All I’m saying is that we’re not exactly close in the traditional sense. As a result, my mum and I play a game of secrets. The rules of the game are as follows: admit to nothing, give her no information about your life, steal all the teaspoons/keys/plums and see which entertaining events follow.  I never introduce boyfriends or girlfriends willingly. If anyone has read my particular awkward and overdramatic coming out post, you will know that my family drew blood from a stone, discovered the Holy Grail and moved Everest to England before they found out my sexuality.

I have great respect for those families who share every aspect of each other’s lives. I’m sure it’s not all roses and peacocks, so I’m not particularly jealous. But, I must admit, I am curious as to what it would be like to come home and tell my mum or dad everything that had happened that day. I have a friend like that, her relationship with and inability to lie to her mother once resulted in her announcing that she had helped me choose a thong to buy whilst they were eating casserole one evening.

Anyway (I say anyway a lot in posts don’t I?), what I mean to say is that I tend not to introduce my boyfriends or girlfriends at all. After I am inevitably outed by my traitorous bitch of a sister, I’m normally teased for several months at family meals until the next scandal. Granted, any teasing is interrupted by strange debates, arguments or disgusting scientific revelations that only my mum and I enjoy discussing. Did you know that it’s harder for a guy to pee when his bladder is not completely full than it is for a girl? That was an interesting Sunday roast, there were diagrams.  However, all teasing is in good humour. My family works in a sort of Darwinian way, you grow a thick skin around the age of twelve or you spend all your time crying.

The introducing of boyfriends (a girlfriend has never been formally introduced as anything other than a friend) always feels more like offering up human sacrifice. The position of the moon, food and activities has to be chosen perfectly. The boy in question normally squirms and tries to get out of it, having heard my stories of my wolf spider mum. However, in a technique that has taken fifty years of practice, my mum then makes me look like an exaggerating idiot by being really incredibly nice. Do not be fooled. The wolf spiders dig traps, before you realise it, it is too late and both your legs are missing.

I remain, absolutely and 100% sure,
that mummy spider is waiting for my engagement party
to serve my beloved chilled monkey brains Indiana Jones Style.  

In other news, I mentioned in my coming out week post that I was going to come out to my little sister, who I thought may be joining me in the LGBTQ community. Well, I came out to her in my typically awkward fashion. She promptly ignored it and got a boyfriend. My gaydar is, as ever, sadly misguided. 

As always feel free to comment or email at homojournal@gmail.com. We'll be back next week with our Jubilee themed posts...I have a little something about the Queen's knickers planned and hopefully Todostrieb will do us a spiffy patriotic homojournal banner.