Well, Fun Sink is finally getting what she wants. A grandson. And, no, it's not from Mr. Twinkle, her son who never seems quite to measure up in her eyes (never mind my part in the equation of how she got her grandchildren, because clearly I have never mattered). It's time to find a mohel and plan a catered lunch because, oh blessed day, the Royal House of Fun Sink is finally getting A BOY.
And y'all know I would not trade my three-girl family for anything; that is not what this is about. It's about my SIL doing every fucking thing my in-laws want her to do, whether she has any control over it or not. Seriously. First she marries my brother-in-law, the 500-lb. vegan with the adorably Southern-Jewish family. (His vegan diet has inspired everyone in the family to renounce any sort of culinary pleasure, which makes meals with those freaks even less fun than before). She had her daughter a polite 5 years after her wedding (not like my firstborn, who everyone was counting back the months on--it worked out with a few months to spare, in case you were wondering yourself). She works as a speech therapist at a school one day a week, unlike my lazy *ss, which probably can't be pried from the sofa during Regis And Kelly*. And now she has waited a polite 3-1/2 years to breed again. And of course she'll stop at two--who do y'all think she is, Michelle Duggar? So it's so lucky that this last grandchild is finally a boy. SIL gives everyone what they've been wanting! Again! Finally!
Maybe I would not be so sensitive about this if relatives had not been patting my belly a year ago, saying, "Please be a boy." This actually fucking happened to me. Coupled with the lack of congratulations and general sullen behavior from my in-laws when we told them Baby B was a girl, and it feels like Mr. Twinkle and I are (again) somehow major disappointments. But, just when you think all hope is lost, SIL comes through with what everybody wanted all along: Little Lord Fun Sink.
I cannot even believe I am dealing with this in the year 2013. You'd think this was fucking Game of Thrones. Excuse my French, y'all, but I am tired of always being the disappointing one. I mean, let's be serious--which one of you boy mamas wouldn't LOVE to have me for a daughter-in-law? Oh, and the icing on the cake--this long-awaited male heir to Fun Sink Abbey is due August 20. Four days before the Pink Tie Ball, which I've been volunteering for, and which I actually thought I'd get to go to this year since they moved it away from football season. Not so! The bris will probably be that weekend. Just forget that I even have a social life or obligations of my own, people, because there is finally a boy in this family.
*I hope y'all know I was joking about the whole Regis And Kelly thing.
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