Dog Parents

I recently attended a family dinner in celebration of my step-brother's sixteenth birthday. It's worth noting that it didn't seem to be party for him but more a self-serving event for his mother and her sister to make dinner and invite some friends over. The final "guest list," consisted of me, my father, my step-mother, her sister Laura, my step-mother's father and her two friends Tim and Gillian.

Tim is a part time gardener and professional drop out who lodged with my step-mother when he was younger and looked after my step-brother.

Gillian is a loud South African woman who drinks insatiably and is the mother of some of my step-bother's friends. But, through some bizarre universal mistake has managed to ingratiate herself with some core family members and now feels licensed to invite herself to practically every family event including Christmas and Easter.

My step-mother's dinners are always a little weird. She encourages people to make forced speeches about "how happy," they are to be together with the family and how lucky we are to all have each other. She of course makes her own speeches in kind. Her sister and son also like to make these rather awkward speeches as well, and so I was unsurprised when upon reaching desert people started tapping glasses (quite unnecessarily as there were only seven of us) and standing up to make stilted discourses to the table at large.

First came my step-mother's sister who's only speech subject is her dead mother. I would of course normally have no problem with this, but she likes to introduce these eulogies by saying things like "And now let us remember a person who can't be here today... a very special person who we all love very much... a person who is a person who is not with us as a person anymore but as a person in heaven... we all know this person... or knew this person in life... (etc. etc. etc.)"

Then came my step-bother who just sort of looks at his feet and then to his mother and then back again while stumbling over his words. Feet --> Mother --> Feet --> Mother as if the combination of the two might hold the key to half decent public speaking.

Finally came his mother. And this is where things got a lot weirder than I am used to.

She said something along the lines of this:

"Now my son, you've reached a very important age... and I feel that you've never had anyone but me to truly guide you... we've never been a religious family so you didn't end up having God parents... I've come to regret this and so [and here she looks fixedly at Tim and Gillian] I would like to nominate a new sort of God parent... Dog Parents!"

At this point she produces two pieces of paper which have been drawn up with a picture of a dog on them and gold lettering across the top reading "CONTRACT OF DOG PARENTSHIP."

She continued:

"I didn't think we'd change to being religious! So I came up with Dog Parents, because it's like God backwards... HA HA HA... The duties are essentially the same though... Gillian. Tim. You need to guide my son into adulthood from this important age... But first all three of you need to sign the contracts so you can become his Dog Parents and he, your Dog son."

There was a short pause at which point I gave my father a quizzical look, but he seemed to have taken a sudden and fixed interest in the corner of the table cloth and so did not return my gaze or try and reassure me that his wife had not lost her mind completely.

Then things started to get even stranger than I could have guessed.

Gillian piped up "Why don't we sign them in blood!?"

Finally my father felt compelled to say something "Gillian I don't think that's really a good idea or at all appro-"

Step-mother interrupts: "That's fantastic Gillian, that will seal a bond."

Tim: "Yeah, yeah, defo! Do you have a pin?"

My step-bother looks a bit scared which I point out and ask "You don't really want to do this do you?"

He agrees: "No."

Tim responds by saying "Don't be a pussy mate. It's only a tiny prick on the finger, I've had dog bites that are a lot worse than that, this is an important occasion and we need to do this properly."

"Yes!" Responds my step-mother ecstatically. She leaves to get a pin. I glance around the table to see my step-mother's father has fallen asleep while my father has gone back to his intense study of the table cloth corner. Laura is looking expectantly at her nephew. Gillian is swigging as much wine as she can get away with while her host is out of the room and Tim is relating to my step-brother his latest dog bite story with my step-brother staring at him mutely.

When my step-mother returns Gillian and Tim prick their fingers and try to sign the contracts in blood. It doesn't really produce enough blood for them to sign two pieces of paper properly and so Tim has the bright idea to take a knife to his finger at which point he cuts himself too deeply and starts spewing blood everywhere. Instead of stopping at this point he tries to make sure the blood goes on his plate so he can dip his other finger into it and sign the contract anyway.

It is then that my step-mother's sister decides that she can't take the sight of blood and vomits across both the contracts and into the lap of my step-bother, the birthday boy. While everyone is screaming and running around trying to mop up blood and sick to, as my step-mother shouts manically, "save the contracts! save the contracts!" I ask my father if he will walk me back to my house a couple of streets away. He nods quickly and we leave. I don't think anyone notices.

We don't say anything on the way back and when we reach my house I give him a look saying "What the fuck have you married into?!"

He nods and apologizes: "I'll talk to her."